


Owning Up

by ehcanuck



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: F/M, Hey they're secretly girls!, M/M, Multi, Nyotalia, Shenanigans, Smut, throat singing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-05-18
Updated: 2011-05-18
Packaged: 2017-11-14 17:09:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 38,682
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/517577
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ehcanuck/pseuds/ehcanuck
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After two of their members the North American Siblings didn't show up for the Valentine's Day G8 meeting, the G8 make a trip up to see them in Northern Ontario to get the thing over and done with. Too bad that there was a surprise waiting for them.<br/>Explicit for chapter 12 only.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN- After reading several excellent examples of such a story (will not say more lest I ruin something), I decided to try my hand at one. Also the location of the G8 meeting was decided by flipping to a random page of the NA section in an atlas and pointing, hopefully isn't too odd. The NA siblings location was also determined by closing my eyes and randomly pointing somewhere on a map of Canada (that and I was listening to the Arrogant Worms)
> 
> Hopefully this is not a complete fail and is believable, hope you like~
> 
> I Own Nothing (not Hetalia or the Arrogant Worms) except the plot

6 out of 8 G8 nations (though there were seven in the car) were presently making their way North after convening for an important meeting Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania.

Now you might be thinking, if they were meeting for a G8 summit in Pittsburgh, then why are they travelling? Shouldn't they be settling in for a nice long nap in a conference room waiting for the opening speeches followed by the dreary talks and kissing up to each other? (Figuratively speaking of course)

Well, they would be, if it weren't for the fact that TWO of them were missing and, being the G **8** , missing two of their members is the same as one fourth of their attendance.

Which was obviously a problem, ergo the travelling - A few quick phone calls by an irate German to the missing's bosses pinpointed the New World siblings location up at Canada's house in Northern Ontario. So, having little say in the matter when faced with an irritated Germany (or not caring enough to resist), the seven of them piled into a van and began making the drive up.

To make matters worse, it was February the 14th today, Valentine's Day.

The bane of England's existence.

This is due to is being one of the days of the year (the other being Christmas or his birthday) that the BLOODY FROG gets ten times WORSE at understanding the concept of keeping ones hands to oneself. Though he already gets _especially_ worse at understanding this any time when in a small enclosed space, such as a moving vehicle and/or where one of his victims can't really fight back, such as the driver of said moving vehicle. So right now, England wanted nothing more then to go Waterloo on the bugger's ass because he was not only harassing him, but was going to get them all killed (which was a mess of paperwork for them all) by bothering the driver as well.

Rule #1 You never harass the driver while in transit unless you want to test you luck at surviving a head on collision with a lamppost at 90km/h.

Though it was a stroke of luck that the driver was easily able to ignore his advances and/or fend them off while not taking his eyes off the road- England wondered where he had developed such a skill, he himself had yet to reach even remotely such a high level of the art of repelling the Frenchman's romantic advances (though his military advancements were another story).

Must be because of his time in the Bad Touch Trio as it was Prussia who was driving, as he was the only one with a valid international licence on him at the building, and he was doing a surprisingly good job. No close calls or anything. In the rest of the car, in the back seat there were all former Axis members squished in. North Italy had fallen asleep on Germany's shoulder, who had in turn fallen asleep on the other after the 4th hour of non-stop driving. Japan was on the other side was discreetly attempting to take pictures and (from what Arthur could tell) was sending them to Hungary. Russia was the lucky bastard in the middle of the van with leg room AND who had the empty seat between him, though France sat on the other side within easy groping distance of North Italy, England in shotgun and Prussia. England could only thank his lucky stars that at least Romano had been abducted by an overenthusiastic Spaniard for the day or else the car would be filled with screams directed at France and Germany.

Though instead he took it upon himself to fill that void as Francis groped him for what felt to be the upteenth time that day. "FUCK OFF FROG!"

At last they arrived at the house, a cozy little place in the middle of NOWHERE. (aka Northern Ontario which is 18 billion kilometers long, with 23 people living there all of whom are named Frank, even the Girl.)

 _Honestly._ Mused Francis. _How does mon petit fils expect more visitors when they have to come all this way? And it was so cold too and very plain. Just rocks and trees, and trees and rocks, and rock and trees and water. Why not the city?_

Ludwig knocked on the door and they all waited uncomfortably outside, with the exception of Russia who was claiming it felt like spring, despite it being -20 outside.

Silence, with the exception of the wind blowing by.

Germany again knocked, this time a bit harder but barely moments after Feliciano, shivering, just tested the door and finding it open, let them in.

_~Inside~_

"I think I hear someone knocking"

"I GOT IT" shouted a voice from the second floor

"Mais non, mon vieux! Chu' plus proche" Came a voice from the living room.

"Wonder who it is, no one comes up your way often Mattie. Hahaha!" Said a louder voice.

"Low blow, Al, low blow."

Just before any of the voices could reach the door, it burst open and seven figures fell in.

Silence, then:

"Ve! Why are there four America's?"

"Aw shit" Whispered one of the four look alikes standing in the foyer while the others looked a combination of disbelief, denial and the look kids get when their hands were caught in the cookie jar. Oh shit indeed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations
> 
> Mais non, mon vieux! Chu' plus proche (Qué fr- No old boy (familial/friendly). I'm closer)


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I own nothing except for my plot.

_**Earlier that Day** _

"Geeze Mattieeeeeeeeeeeee. Why on Earth did we have to do this this far away from the border again? My feet hurrrrrrt now."

"But Alfieeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee. You didn't have to walk all the way up hereeeeeeeeeeeeee. You did that on your ownnnnnnnnnnnnn." Responded the other twin teasingly, copying the others whiny tone. "Be at least thankful it isn't warm enough for the black flies, deer flies, horse flies, gnats, mosquitoes to be out to bite you. "

"I could handle THOSE! It's just so cold! I can't feel my balls." Then the two snorted, sharing a private joke, before Matt's face smoothed out and covered it with a look of irritation.

"Deal with it. We've been doing this for Valentine's Day every year for how long now? Man up Al. Man. Up." Silence, then they both began to giggle.

Stretching out on the couch, Alfred yawned and said "I missed doing this with you, just you and I, no one else."

"Well, Ontario (Vincent) and Québec (Jean) are here."

America paused for a moment, as though mulling it over then said "But it doesn't really matter. They've known since the beginning, so the liberation of not having to be careful if still there."

"I suppose you're right."

"...So what do you want to do?"

"Well we haven't really had a chance to really talk for a while, so tell me, what about those rumours I've been hearing about you and"

America immediately cut the other off "LIES! NOTHING BUT LIES!"

"You know, de Nile isn't only a river in Egypt"

"I'M NOT IN DENILE YOU - YOU - YOU... POLAR BEAR LOVING ASS HOLE!"

"Sure, sure Al. Just like you don't enjoy drinking tea."

"GAHHHH!"

They talked/bantered/argued like this for a few hours over everything from hockey teams (Canucks in finals!) to past bosses to stupid truth-or-dares to comedians (what do you mean I don't have a sense of humour? Patrick McKenna, Russell Peters, Jim Carrey and Mike Myers are all mine!) or what they were thinking of planting in their gardens/yards in the spring. Every now and again Québec or Ontario would come into the kitchen for food and join in whatever they were debating ( _THAT ISN'T THE MOUNTIES SLOGAN YOU IGNORANT BOOB_ or _French isn't mindless babble!_ or _STOP STEALING ALL OF OUR HOCKEY PLAYERS!_ )

Family Bonding at it's finest... _I do not just live off of Hamburgers Matt! No, it will not poison me! I'm not afraid of catching French couties... JUST SHARE YOUR POUTINE ALREADY!_

Then in the early afternoon, the two began to make chocolate.

"...Matt, I know you love the maple chocolate but if you keep eating the batter-stuff we won't have enough to actually MAKE it."

"But it's so gooooood." The Canadian attempted to get another spoonful only to have it whisked away.

"Don't make me get my wooden spoon out. Cause I mean it, I'll turn this car around mister." Said Al, barely concealing a smirk at the others plaintive expression as he stole the bowl.

"NOOOOOOOO!"

Once both the Maple and Hazelnut Chocolate batches were in the oven did Alfred turn to his sibling, looking both serious and thoughtful. "Hey Matt."

"Yeah?"

"Um...I was thinking. Times have changed a bit, do you think we could maybe tell them?" At his sibling's shocked face, America attempted to clarify "Not that I mind spending Valentine's Day with you, it's more that, well, our reason for doing so, y'know? I mean, I like spending time with you broski and all and we can keep doing this. It's just... it's just becoming very lonely. Maybe if we said something, this wouldn't have to be a tradition anymore..."

Nodding Canada said "Yes, Al. I know what you mean. Maybe it is time, eh? How about tomorrow at the G8 meeting we talk to England and France about it then?"

Before they could continue, the two were interrupted by knocking...

* * *

This leads them back to the present.

"Ve! Why are there four America's?"

"Aw shit" Whispered Ontario...

There was a momentary standoff as each party sized the other up before England cleared his throat and said "Hhmm. Excuse me Alfred, but could you first identify which one you are and then explain why you have three clones?

There was silence as it would appear each of the four tried to get their brains to engage until one nudged the other who then said "That would be me...the hero" The information was volunteered from the America holding a tv remote.

"I'm Canada" came from the America standing on the stairs.

The two wearing aprons over their clothes finally got the blank looks off their faces and simultaneously shouted "EXCUSE US!" and ran upstairs, followed a beat afterwards by the one claiming to be Canada.

Who was that anyway?

However, that left the other one to shift from foot to foot awkwardly at the others suspicious stares.

...

..

.

"You're not America. He would have shouted about me being a commie or something by now. самозванец! (Imposter) " said Russia, pulling out his pipe.

* * *

"WHAT ARE WE GOING TO DO MATT!" whispered the America in skinny jeans and a very tight turtleneck as the other collapsed against the bedroom door, sliding to it's base.

"Nothing." whispered the America wearing a formfitting t-shirt and some nice jeans, head in hands "You were talking about telling them. It would appear we've been given a golden opportunity."

America (the actual one) replied, voice rising while whispering frantically, "Yeah, yeah. Speak of the devil and he shall appear. I was just throwing the idea out there! I wanted to plan this out a bit first not just jump into it headfirst! Oh my God, OhmyGod, OmGod"

Canada, looked up at his pacing southern neighbour "Don't make me slap you. Having a panic attack won't help much, now..."

There was a knocking on the door and a whispered "It's me" came through.

Quickly Vincent was let into the room "Jean is distracting them for now. What do you want to do?"

America pulled himself together and said "Well it would be kind of suspicious if we just stayed up here, wouldn't it?"

"Well, yeah. What's our cover going to be?"

"Well first you two should probably put something else on..."

"Right..."

They first shucked off the aprons, socks and America had gotten off the turtleneck, revealing the wife beater underneath when they both smelt something burning.

"SHIT THE CHOCOLATE!"

Without a second thought, both of them quickly tore through the doorway, down the stairs and into the kitchen to rescue the two pans.

* * *

"YES! I'M THE HERO!" shouted America once both pans rested safely on the top of the stove. "High Five Mattie! WOOOOOT!"

And that was when it dawned on the other what they had just done.

Whipping around, Canada saw Russia pinning a defiant Jean to the ground while Vincent face-palmed from the stairs. The others - Prussia, Germany, North Italy, England, France and Japan were now staring at them, jaws dropped and stupfied.

"Um...Al?"

America half-turned, happy grin in place "Yeah Matt?"

"You know we're busted right?"

"What do you mean..." Then America turned all the way around "Oh. Right. Well. Um."

Kiku was the first to speak up, voice going up to squeak at the end "America-kun?"

" Haha. Um. Funny story, here. Um." Turning back to the other, America hissed "Canada, little help here?"

Canada then hissed back "Well America, neither of us are wearing our normal baggy clothing, our toe nails are painted, your wife beater is half falling off, my t-shirt isn't exactly hiding anything and neither of our chests are presently bound. So I think the fact that we have breasts and are female is now pretty dang obvious so I honestly can't think of anything really to say."

"SHUT UP Mattie! That is not helpful!" muttered the other as she fixed her shirt so it was on properly.

Sighing, Matthew licked her lips, turned to them and began to nervously say: "So, um. Well. As you can see, Alfred and I have something we need to tell you... Um. First, would any of you like some tea? This will likely take a while."

France couldn't really handle it anymore and promptly passed out, hitting the ground a few seconds before England did.

Seeing as it appeared the other members of the G8 weren't going to be recovering from their shock anytime soon, the two provinces, America and Canada, carried their main two parental nations to the first story guest rooms before they retreated to the kitchen. There, they began making tea and coffee and waited for the others minds to recover enough to process everything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yep, this is going to be one of those America and Canada are secretly female stories. However, unlike some other stories, they will be keeping the same personalities presented in the anime (ex. Al- Energetic, happy, strong and unintentional hurtful at times. Matt- quiet, optimistic and passive-aggressive) and common fan perspective. So no, they will not suddenly become wimps or ditzy or anything of the sort and we'll see how it goes :)
> 
> All sibling interaction is based off my relationships with my twin and my bros, so hopefully is believable.
> 
> Please review, I know my writing isn't the best (and there are likely hit-the-wrong-key-but-is-still-a-word typos everywhere) and comments on what seems off with conversations, plot and whatnot will help me improve this.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hopefully those I confused with the last chapter (and I hope there are only a few of you) will have things cleared up with this one.
> 
> I DON'T OWN HETALIA or anything else.

"So, um. What's new with you guys?"

Silence.

Haha. This was gonna be one of _those_ conversations then.

Couldn't be any worse the Artie trying to give them the talk.

...Actually, there was no way to trump the horrific awkwardness and embarrassment of that conversation, at least this was initial silence was just uncomfortable.

They were presently sitting in Canada's living room with the more shellshocked ones - France, England, Prussia and Japan were crammed onto the chesterfield while Germany leaned against the wall, North Italy played with the settings on the La-Z-Boy recliner and Russia sat on the loveseat, amused smirk in place.

America sat in front of them, by the fire place, on a chair pilfered from the kitchen turned backwards while the three Canadians were in the kitchen getting tea and coffee.

What she wouldn't give for her GameBoy right now.

She and Mattie had gone and changed into their more typical clothes at least so she at least didn't have any of them staring at her boobs as if they were going to jump out at them.

Though that would be pretty funny.

.  
..  
...

"Well isn't this awkward." came another voice.

YES! The silence at last! It was broken! And by Matthew no less!

The Canadian sat down on the Ottoman after given everyone their respective hot beverage.

"Soooooo." She began, drawing the syllable out before reluctantly continuing "This isn't quite how we thought you would ever find out, eh?"

England just snorted, having mostly recovered from his shock and interrupted "I should bloody well hope not!"

Ignoring him, she carried on "I understand that you are somewhat shocked so would you like us to just explain from the beginning or just answer any questions you have?" asked Matthew after another brief bit of silence.

They all kind of just stared at her as if she'd grown a third head.

"...I'm Canada."

That then got a few nods and some of the confusion present on some of their faces vanished.

"Who?" came a small voice.

"Oh Kumakichi! THAT'S where you got to!" Leaning over the TV, she reached behind and pulled out a dozy polar bear. "Kumarara, I've told you not to sleep back there!"

* * *

At this moment, France wondered how he could have ever mistaken sa fillette for a boy.

 _Dat ass_.

Mmmm-hm.

However, instead of voicing those thoughts, he just gave an approving nod before he turned to a shell-shocked England.

* * *

"Alors, rosbif. What spell did you foutre la merde this time, hmmmm? They are WOMEN! Gorgeous women but they are still FEMALE! When will you learn! "

Arthur spluttered before he began to try and defend himself "I haven't done any magic for a few months! There hasn't been..."

"So they have been female for months? Really Angleterre?"

As their bickering continued and escalated, America decided to intervene.

"I love how you talk like we aren't here." She shouted, that got them to be fall silent quickly. "Just FYI, we haven't been female for months. Try a few centuries! We have been this way since we first opened our eyes and began to walk our lands before you Arthur or Francis or Tino! So stop acting like it's an almighty tragedy that we don't have dicks!"

England and France just looked stunned, letting their death grip on each other's slacken and their hands fall to their sides.

Germany spoke up from the side "I believe it would be best, Amerika und Kanada, if you just started at the beginning."

"Thank you Germany. Well, I think then that I should start Al and you add in where you see fit"

"Alright Matt!"

"So Alfred and I have always been female. Vincent and Jean here are 2 of my children" she gestured to the side where the two sat on the risers leading down to the living room as gasps of surprise rang about the room "Not by blood (as I was about 9 when they came into being) but by land; both Alfred and I have had our states, provinces and territories develop personifications."

Here she turned the side and gave Russia a very nasty glare and continued "Russia, you just attacked Québec and if I have found that you've seriously hurt him, I WILL go hockey mode on your sorry ass. Just clearing that up now. We are female and we have kids. Alright?"

Alfred decided she should really already interrupt because it was quite possible that Matthew was going into her war mode and this might get her to back down a bit.

"So, um. Before the Europeans came, we had never thought of hiding our gender, it was never even a question. Our people viewed women as equals and respected them so there was never a reason for it to be a problem. They accepted what we were, they would share food and clothes if we ever needed any in return for help with the harvest/hunting or for stories, long forgotten tales or of our own making. They valued our opinions not only as nations but as fellow tribe members and as elders (though we still looked four)."

Matthew then picked up the story "Then, when I was off at the East Coast, some Vikings created a settlement there and in the brief time of peace between their people and mine, I had the opportunity to meet Norway, Sweden and Denmark. They had seen me before, in the small skirmishes that had erupted and they were amused to find out that I was female. When conflict came up again between our two people, we remained friends and before they left, they warned me to be wary of others like them. Pale skin in strange clothing and whatnot. They had no problem with me being female, after all they viewed their women as just as capable of great feats as their men (like dying during childbirth would get them into Valhalla) but other Europeans saw females and women nations as inferior and exploitable. So they said if the time ever came to do my best to appear strong, or, even better, pretend to be male."

Here America took over "Matt shared with me that story so when we first saw your people landing on our shores and observed them, we came to the agreement that it would be best to follow their advice. Especially when we saw what had happened to our sisters in the South. We would not be subservient or inferior to anyone if we could help it, so with the help of our tribes, we hid."

Matthew then interrupted "Well, more Al hid more in plain sight and I disappeared. With the arrival of Francis's people came my first son, Québec and because of how similar we looked whenever we knew that France was coming and staying for a while, I would go stay with the Wendat or Iroquois or whoever else I could while he stayed behind and interacted with him. He never knew that he was actually looking after two of us and Kumayoshi would always get confused as to who was holding him because of the effort we put into acting and looking the same. Alfred on the other hand wasn't able to do that because of how fast she grew so she just got very good at makeup. Then when I was given away to Arthur, my two sons (as Ontario was now in existence) decided that it would be best to protect me from England as we had heard many horrible tales so I went to stay with my first people and they would trade places depending where they were needed. Then every month I would come by and they would keep me up to date with our affairs. Though once things calmed down somewhat and England went back to Europe I came back home. Every now and then, Vincent or Jean would even go in Al's place if she needed help. "

"It was surprisingly easy to fool you guys. Honestly? Isn't it like the first thing you check when you first adopt a little guy? I mean, you just assumed by the way we dressed and how much land we represented that we were male! We felt guilty at times for deceiving you at times, so much so there were a few times when we talked about telling you. However, each time we would see another case of how women were treated in "civilized society" and how you would act embarrassed when you had a female colony and how they were treated. After hearing and experiencing things about Jeanne d'Arc, the witch hunts, laws governing women, seeing them being treated as chattel to preserve the males bloodline, executed for not producing an heir  we became more and more convinced that we should just keep things as they were. I mean, there were women being killed or shunned for going and fighting in war, masquerading as men and for trying to participate in politics and intellectual areas. All of which we had done."

"We didn't want to lose our friendships with anyone or be hated or abused so we just kept the charade up. Sometime in the 1800's I got just as good as Alfred at makeup and acting so I began to go to represent myself at meetings or in war and they would frequently shadow things just in case they needed to step in and pretend to be either Alfred or I. Anyway, that was why in wars and whatnot we would never allow you or doctors to treat our injuries and since then even after women began facing less discrimination; it's become a habit for us to hide. The mask had become so much like reality to us that sometimes I'm shocked at my reflection when changing and whatnot, it was no longer a question of telling you. You were never supposed to find out."

"Or at least, not like this anyway." Chimed in Alfred.

There was a heavy silence as the seven nations present tried to process this new information, at least what they had seen at least had some context...

Clearing his throat, Germany then asked "This may not seem entirely relevant but it seems now is the best time to ask, why you were not present at today's meeting?"

He received two blank stares in return before Matthew yelped "THAT WAS TODAY?"

"Ja."

"B-but! Both me n' Mattie have it written down for tomorrow on our calendars!"

"There was a last minute re-arranging of the schedule. Did no one contact you?"

There was an embarrassed pause before the Canadian broke it. "Weeeeeell. You see. Al and I have this ongoing tradition for Valentine's Day and since it's inception, we've always cut off any outside contact. That and a snow storm took the phone lines out. Soooooo no. Haven't heard from anyone in three days."

Prussia spoke up "Valentine's...tradition?"

America chose to answer this one "Well, um. You see!...no. Errrrrr. It's that, we haven't actually anyone to spend it with because of our charade. We couldn't actually date humans as not many take the surprise of finding out the hot guy was actually a girl well and then with you guys, we couldn't risk anyone finding out. So, we decided that we would spend the day of lovers together to keep the loneliness away..."

Matt cleared her throat "What Al means to say is that it would be rather unfair to engage in a relationship with a human and until recently, potentially dangerous for us to date any nation so to avoid seeing everyone getting together, we get together and do all that kinda stuff together! Like make chocolate, watch sappy movies, go out for dinner and play board/video games together. It makes it easier."

North Italy looked at them, pity in his eyes "But that means! You have never really been on a proper date, right? Così non può continuare! As the nation of romance, I and..." he reached over and grabbed a stupefied Ludwig "Germany will take you out to dinner!"

The twins just looked at each other then said as one "EHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not entirely certain where I'm going with this, it's just kind of writing itself...
> 
> Translations:
> 
> sa fillette (Fr- his daughter)
> 
> Alors, rosbif (Fr- So, rosbif. Rosbif = nasty slang for an Englishman)
> 
> foutre la merde (Fr- fuck up)
> 
> Amerika und Kanada (Ger- America and Canada)
> 
> Così non può continuare! (It- That cannot continue!)


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I DO NOT OWN HETALIA OR WHATEVER ELSE I REFERENCE IN THIS! thank you.

Matthew wasn't sure how exactly their typical Valentine's Day had ended up like this.

Not the entire bursting into her house and finding out part but _this_.

Her Papa going through her closet and Alfred's for something for their 'big date'.

Cause THAT wasn't horrifically awkward.

Nope.

Definitely not.

What made it even worse was when he bemoaned the lack of porn and kinky things.

Ugh.

Shoot her now, please.

* * *

At least the others had left, Gilbert had made his escape mumbling something about feeding Gilbird, Feli had dragged Ludwig off to get him ready for "le belle ragazze", Kiku said something about needing to call someone before running for the door and Ivan... she wasn't sure where he was, despite how large he was, he could disappear quite quickly.

That left her and Al in France's clutches while England cowered in a corner of the room mumbling about how indecent it was.

"Ma chérie! What is this...this rubbish?"

"Those would be my hockey jerseys Francis! They are priceless! The others are hoodies"

"Half of one's closet should never consist of such unflattering, frumpy, baggy things!"

"Well I like them!"

"C'est un désastre! We will need to go buy you a completely new wardrobe, this is all destined pour la poubelle! We will also need to get makeup, leg wax and nail polish! I will make you gorgeous, not frumpy!"

"Never bothered you before!"

"That is before I knew you to be une fille! You should maybe keep on or two of your 'jerseys' but the rest should not be worn! In fact, ma chérie, I do not think it is safe for you to continue playing hockey. Imagining you getting hit by all those brutes, getting bruised and hurt brings a tear to my eyes. Women should not do or wear such things lest someone make the wrong assumption! Where is your French pride? To be wearing such potato sacks! Even Al has better taste Madeleine! Good thing that I am here to help you for your big date, non?"

"Francis!" Shouted Arthur as he turned slightly, he did not like where the frog was heading with his rant. He knew that Francis would get caught up when he had a project to do, but he was getting insensitive.

* * *

Alfred (who had just come into the room) flinched at the sudden menacing aura that came from her sister and slowly backed over to Arthur's corner, not wanting to be the target of a three hour rant.

* * *

The other had a deceptively calm look on her face but her smile was a mirror image of Russia's... "So the fact that I was trying to hide that I was female didn't have any part in your wardrobe analysis? That wearing such things would only expose what I was trying to hide? Or maybe that because I have so many of them, that maybe, **just maybe** , I enjoy wearing those things? Hmmmm?"

Tearing her things from Francis's hand, she lovingly began to re-hang each article and put it back in her closet as she continued "Simply because you know that I am a woman, does that I should immediately start wearing dresses and skirts everywhere, paint my nails and focus solely on my appearance? Should I start carrying a parasol now too and wear a corset and stay inside all day to prevent my skin from darkening? And _no hockey~?_ Bah! Try to stop me and I will show you why Alfred and Ludwig swore that they wouldn't fight me again."

Guesturing to the next room, anger began to seep into her tone "Also, you should actually see Alfred's closet, her stuff here is just what she leaves in my guest room! At her apartmenent there is an entire shelf dedicated to gangster pants and an entire wall dedicated to baseball jerseys so don't you dare even try and _compare us_ bâtard!"

Taking a deep breath, she then got right in his face and hissed "Also, je m'appelle Matthew, France! Pas Madeleine, Manon, Marie, Margeret ou Michelle! So do NOT try that with me. It might be the wrong gender name but it is who I am and just because you are now having a bit of an identity crisis for me does not mean that you can just change that! I'm still the same person I always was so STOP TRYING TO CHANGE ME"

She then stormed out of her room and out of the house leaving a shocked Francis behind.

"That was smooth you divvy idiot."

* * *

In a little while, uncomfortable, America spoke up "If it makes you feel any better, that was shorter then the rant she gave me when some of my corporations decided they should try to appeal to female consumers "

There was quiet as England waited for her to continue and Francis remained shocked so when she didn't; curious, Arthur asked "That doesn't sound to bad, why was she mad?"

"I was pretty annoyed too because apparently appealing to women to buy guns and tools and other 'manly' things means making everything pink or flowery, not making the tools easier to hold for smaller hands or lighter."

"..."

"Also, for the record Artie and Francy-pants," Al's tone suddenly got very dark "if you try and tell me what to do and control me, **I will make you regret it.** "

A collective shiver ran through the two.

"Oh! And just call me Al and Matthew Mattie if that makes you more comfortable. And that reminds me, I came in here to get your advice for my presentation for the meeting... if we ever end up having one."

Nodding dumbly, the Brit allowed himself to be led out of the room.

* * *

Matthew slowed her run once she found herself in the familiar forest that surrounded her house. Being outside and in nature had always helped her calm down and winter hiking was always fun. Orienting herself so that she would meet the actual trail, she began to walk and think.

Perhaps she had overreacted a little...

But, on the other hand, there was no need for Francis to be so critical of what she wore and how she looked! Especially because no one calls her hockey jerseys garbage!

Hell no! He was lucky she hadn't snapped then! If she didn't like what she wore then she would have gotten some more feminine clothing to wear around the house or something. She just preferred the stuff he was trying to throw out! (Just thinking about it made her mad again)

However, that was no excuse for her behaviour, she should not have lost her temper like that. She would apologize for how she acted (though not for what she said, she meant that!)

Though, it would nice to have a skirt or dress that she could wear every now and again. Hmm. Kind of an indulgence after so many years of looking at the beautiful styles that the women in court had worn over the centuries when she was a colony.

Then it was decided! When she apologized, she would accept Francis suggestion of going and getting some new things but with a limit on how much they would spend and making sure that he would at least pay attention to what it was she was comfortable with.

Feeling much better, she decided she would finish her walk, then they could take the Path to some mall or another. Maybe the Edmonton Mall, she knew that Francis would likely really like that one.

Ah, she was now at the falls! The way the water froze as it descended always created the most beautiful and interesting shapes.

Now that she thought about it, she should pay a visit to Jean's house and go see the Montmorency falls again. Going tobogganing on the ice-cone or climbing the falls was always fun and she hadn't really had any quality time with just him since the elections. Or really... any one-on-one time with any of her "children". When did she get so busy? After all this was done she definitely should make a point of doing so...

Was someone else here?

Listening carefully now she could hear a quiet voice talking on the other side, someone who obviously hadn't noticed her arrival.

"...couldn't have noticed? I've been her friend for years and I never noticed. Now my heart is racing and I don't know what to do. Just...AGHHHHHHH! How was I was oblivious? I've accidentally even walked in on her changing! She was just so cute this morning too! How am I going to act around her now? I don't want things to be awkward, but I just! I just don't know what I should do! This is so unawesomeeeeeeeeeeeee. I...What? Fine, fine. Have some more damn birdseed Gilbird! I'm pouring out my heart here and you're not even listening are you? Horrible friend is what you are. Though I'm the one talking to a bird..."

Deciding she was probably intruding, Matt quietly turned back the way she came and went back to her house.

She felt like she was forgetting something though. Ah! Right! She was going to need to call her boss and let him know that their secret was now out.

* * *

After reassuring France that Matt didn't (likely) hate him and that she would be back soon, Al was finally sampling some of the Hazelnut chocolate that she and Matt had made while Arthur made himself some tea.

Soooooooooooooo good.

She began to lightly lick the remnants that had melted on her fingers off, sighing in pleasure as she did so. She wasn't quite sure why this tasted so much better then the chocolate she made on her own but waved it off as sisterly teamwork.

Wonder Twin Powers ACTIVATE!

Knocking interrupted her, soooooooooo seeing as her sister from another mister wasn't here, she did the next best thing and opened the door with a flare, closing her eyes and shouting "Williams Funerary Services! You stab 'em we slab 'em! How can I help you toady?"

"Pardon Alfred-kun?"

Then Alfred paled in fear when he saw who was behind him, this would not end pleasantly for her.

"So Al, I hear you have a date tonight~ I brought some things that should fit you!"

"Like, allow us to help you and Matt get ready!"

"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was trying to keep the cast small but those two just wormed their way in. Any guesses as to who they are?
> 
> Montmorency Falls: http : / / www . flickr . com/ photos/ pphaneuf/ 59041112/
> 
> http : / www . heason. net /download /pictures/ Gallery_-_Ian_Parnell/Neil_Gresham_on_the_half_frozen_waterfall_of_Montmorency_falls_in_
> 
> Yeah, pretty sure my pet peeve with most of these surprise!- they're-female fics showed... Just because the others now know does not mean that suddenly they change their names, how they dress and act and allow themselves to be pushed around.
> 
> Translations
> 
> le belle ragazze (It- the beautiful girls)
> 
> ma chérie (Fr- My dear)
> 
> C'est une désastre (Fr- This is a disaster)
> 
> poubelle (Fr- garbage)
> 
> une fille (Fr- a girl)
> 
> bâtard ( Qu Fr- bastard)
> 
> je m'appelle (Fr- my name is)


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own Hetalia or anything else referenced here besides the plot (which isn't saying much)

Matthew was walking up to her house just as she heard a terrified scream coming from her house.

That sounded a lot like her sister.

It took a lot for Al to actually show she was in any sort of pain, she thought with horror, to get her to scream like that... _NO ONE_ messed with her family.

Her blood beginning to boil, she ran the remaining distance across her back yard, up the path, leaping the 3 stairs to the porch and through the door...only to meet a sight that was unsettling to say the least.

France was sitting in the living room on the chesterfield, wine in hand and smug look in place, watching as Elizabeta and Feliks were holding down a struggling figure, Arthur was nowhere to be seen. Though that was kind of weird, considering none of them were freaking out over the scream earlier, she calmed somewhat and hoped that it was just them telling Al they weren't going to McD's for dinner. And also that that poor person in the clutches of the Hungarian and Pole didn't know a good lawyer and wouldn't come after her if they did...

"Francis? What's going on?" she asked cautiously.

He jumped at first, as though he just realized that she was there before his face split into a grin and he exclaimed, "Ma chérie! You are no longer mad at your dear Papa! My heart soars in joy!" 

"Oui Papa, I am no longer mad (though I am still very annoyed). Again, though, what is going on?"

Her question was answered as yet again an ear splitting shriek rang in the air and the person Eli and Feliks were holding onto made her escape.

"You keep that demon wax away from the hero!"

They were waxing legs? They were waxing _Alfred's_ legs?

All bets were off, she was outta here. Matthew began to make a break for it before they turned on her but instead ran into a solid wall of person. Who smelt vaguely of tea and of rice. Japan.

"Sorry Kiku. Please excuse me." Making to dart around him, she felt her shoulder be lightly grabbed.

"Matthew-kun! Don't go, you are just in time, Elizabeta brought some lovely dresses with her for you and Al-kun!" The beaming man gently shooed her back into the room just as the Hungarian and Pole turned towards her, evil intentions in their eyes.

"Okay Al! We're done with your legs, it's Mattie's turn!"

"GO AWAYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY"

* * *

It turns out as soon as he heard who was at the door Arthur had jumped out the second story window (after grabbing a pair of the shoes and a sweater from the closet) and made a run for it. Running into Ivan, Vincent and Jean he grabbed them and dragged them to the nearest bar (now all he needed was Gilbert to challenge to a drinking contest and the night would go swimmingly) with every intent of getting completely and utterly shitfaced.

Because a) he was too sober to deal with those two in the same vicinity as France (they would harass him about his eyebrows then his hair then his beloved sweatervests and and and) and then b) he still couldn't quite come to terms with the revelation that had turned his world on its axis.

They were women.

His sons were heart-wrenchingly beautiful women.

He'd never felt this much of a failure as a parent. Which was saying something as he had about half of them rebel against him, made the others fight in bloody wars that weren't their business, sent his criminals and unwanted to them, destroyed their existing languages and cultures...He really needed to stop thinking of his imperialism days, they only made him depressed.

How he had missed it all these years, he had no idea. There were signs everywhere, (the monthly mood-swings, the rolls of bandages, the disappearance of his hot water bottle every few weeks, etc) that His Alfred, his sweet little Alfred who could hurl buffaloes in the air, compliment his cooking and had chosen him over the frog, was not a bloke. Neither was quiet, gentle Matthew who had remained loyal and stayed at his side longer than most people would.

How much of their past had been a lie, a facade? Part of the walls that they had built to hide themselves? Did he even know the real Al and Matt? How much of a role did he have in their desire to hide?

Ugh, he felt like a piss poor excuse of a nation and wanted nothing more than to have a good swig of rum.

But the rum was gone at Matt's house so that left the nearby bar.

Why was the rum always gone at his colonies homes? (Answer: They didn't keep any in stock as they didn't want to end up the victim of the inebriated Britannia Angel's 'help' and rum always seemed to bring out either that side of Arthur or his Pirate side)

* * *

Matthew felt a disturbance in the force...er, her nation senses were tingling? Arthur had gotten some rum. _Tabernac._ Just what she needed. Hopefully the damage would be contained as both potential sides brought out by the liquid didn't really like the cold. Like her -27ºC weather today.

Anyway, right now she had bigger things to worry about.

Namely what the hell she was being made to wear.

It would appear before they were to be allowed near any reasonable, normal clothes, they had to go through Hungary and Japan's cosplay closet (with Poland's encouragement). America was presently dressed up as Kuukaku from Bleach (Japan had promptly excused himself after seeing her outfit) but that was still better then what she was being made to wear.

There were no words to describe what she was wearing.

"Matthew~ I need you to come out of the bathroom please and show us the outfit."

Oh wait, there was one. "NO"

"I'm sure you look very cute in it. Oop. I meant sexy not cute, sexy. Yep."

"...I'm not coming out."

"Then I'm going to come in and drag you out!" The sound of deadly frying pan was unleashed and soon after followed the sound of wood splitting and the click of a lock.

In seconds a very red faced Matthew was standing in the living room wearing Catwoman's very tight, form fitting leather full body suit, complete with heels and whip.

Japan came back and then seeing Matt, he again quickly excused himself from the room, holding his nose.

Matt on the other hand...Needless to say, she was not happy. The others quickly picked up on this.

Hungary was quick to offer a compromise "Matt, I'll offer you a deal, same as I did Al. If you pose once for a picture AND let me take it, we can start trying on the actual dresses or, if that isn't okay, we could start trying on the Final Fantasy clothes."

Knowing that was the best she was probably going to get, she reluctantly nodded and so ignoring her Papa's leer, she angled her hips, held the whip with both hands at waist height and leaned forward a bit, smirk in place.

Hopefully that would satisfy the other.

"So this is where everyone...went." In the doorway stunned was Gilbert whose face instantly then went from its usual white to red before he passed out on the ground.

America then piped up, "Why does he have a nose bleed?"

"Never you mind chérie, now, lean a little closer, your Papa wishes to tell you something~"

"What?" Al moved then realized where the other's hand was moving. "AGH! Go away you old lech!"

* * *

Ivan didn't want to be here.

REALLY.

He'd been ditched within 1 minute of passing through the door by Canada's two provinces who'd given him the pity look. The one that said _I feel bad about leaving you alone when you have no clue what is about to happen but I still don't want to be here. Good luck with that._ He hadn't realized until it was too late that he'd been stuck on babysitter duty.

"D-damn yeh Lafayette. Damn Kosciuszko...And th' ENTIRE Voul'unteer Army! Dammmmn 'em all. Amerrrrrrica! Wh' di' yeh go?"

He'd forgotten how awkward it was to be around the Brit when he got really drunk. But what made it worse was the fact that Arthur was going around shouting this after having broken the leg off a bar stool and was presently using it as a cutlass to destroy the bar.

Though, strangely, no one seemed really perturbed (though the bartender had disappeared). Sure, a few had left but all of the braver locals remained in the corners, nursing their drinks and remained amused by the Englishman's antics (especially once he began to fence with an invisible Spain). He'd even heard one mutter about it being the best entertainment up here since those moose had decided to make themselves at home in town for that week.

Clearly they were insane.

Sighing he leaned over the counter and took the closest bottle of vodka (and put cash in its place, he was many things but a thief was not one).

He was going to need it to survive the evening.

* * *

America was overjoyed, she was at last free of the self-proclaimed fashion police of their kind. She had an approved dress for her date (she was so excited!), nails painted, hair done and makeup in place.

She felt kinda like she had just been a Barbie doll for the two to dress up but on the other hand...she looked wicked!

She looked just as pretty, self-confident and...and well-put together as Lois Lane or Marilyn Monroe or Amelia Earhart or Katharine Hepburn or even Lady Gaga (toned down a bit of course)!

She loved that she appeared professional but fun, pretty but still intelligent (not slutty) and like she could be just as at home in a sports arena as at a formal dinner party. She also loved the contradictions that semi-formal wear clothing provided, like her clothing wasn't bright but it was still vivid.

Try figuring _that_ one out.

She totally sympathized with any person  especially males, cause they would just be doomed from the get-go  who even tried to figure out the labyrinth that was woman's clothing and shopping.

So she was grateful for their help, Elizabeta's and Feliks's that is. Though she wanted a bit more warning next time with the waxing (though her legs felt so smooooooth).

Honestly, she probably would've worn a halter top and jeans to wherever Feli was taking them and Ludwig to and she knew her sister, a clean sweatershirt and dresspants. Both of which probably would've caused Feli and Francis to despair the instant they saw them.

She was drawn from her thoughts when Eli knocked on the bathroom door.

Checking out her appearance one more time, she went and unlocked it but before she could leave the Hungarian slipped in, dragging Matt with her.

Before Al could even say anything, Eli beat her to it.

"Now ladies, since your secret is now out, I figured it was about time you were invited to the monthly lunch that we have. It's tomorrow at 12:40 in Liechtenstein, all of the others will be coming to."

Al was confused by two parts of that sentance. "Others? Who are they? And what do you mean about time, you found out a few hours ago!"

"The other female nations. You know, Liechtenstein, Monaco, Wy, Czech, Ireland, Kenya, Ghana, Owari, Sendai, Vietnam, Belgium, Seychelles, Ukraine, Belarus, Taiwan and myself. And it is about time we were able to invite you, we figured it out at the beginning of the 19th century but figured you would freak out if we told you."

"Wh...bu...you...How? What gave it away? We were so careful."

"That's neither here nor there. You are coming, igen?" 

"Maybe."

"Coming."

"I said maybe!"

"You are coming, coming, coming."

Matt piped up stopping any bickering (or Hungary could continue her Belarus impression) "We'd love to come."

* * *

As America and Canada got ready at Matt's house, across town, there was a similar scene going down.

After he'd been dragged away by Italy, the first thing that Germany did had been to book rooms at the only nearby hotel for them (it didn't really seem appropriate to ask Canada just out of the blue to house seven of them) and to arrange for their things to be sent up.

As apparently the conference (if it ever happened) was now up here.

But after that, Italy had been in charge. Those two words did not belong together in a sentence, yet that did not change the reality of it...

He would likely have a bruise on his forehead tomorrow, Germany decided, running a cautious hand along the sore skin. It was had become an automatic reaction now to facepalm whenever Italy did something ridiculous and today had just been a string of such incidents (from the failed meeting to the surprise revelation to this).

And now he would have to hide the damage so to speak (it really wasn't that obvious).

Running his hand through his hair, he set about loosening the foremost strands from their gel prison, letting them fall across his face and cover his brow. Looking in the mirror, he grimaced somewhat, it wasn't as strict as he would prefer but Italy insisted that he look less serious anyway as it was a date.

He shuddered at that word. That word had been responsible for the majority of his exasperation today.

First, Italy had wanted to get flowers. It was February. In Northern Ontario. Not a lot of flowers to pick or buy. Really.

They had gotten chocolates instead.

Second, Italy had wanted to go buy a nice light casual suit. Again- February, Northern Ontario  it's cold and there isn't a lot of call for a suit maker here. Anyway even if there was one in the small town nearby, Ludwig highly doubted he would be able to make anything of good enough quality for Feli's standards in four hours or that their things would be here before tomorrow morning.

They wore the same business suits they had on before with no ties and jackets unbuttoned.

Third, Italy wanted to go to a five star restaurant. The closest town (30 min away from the house) had about 20 houses/businesses, none of which were five star restaurants. Germany wasn't surprised but Feli was and then wanted gelato. In February.

They made reservations at the three star restaurant in the hotel. (And went to the grocery store and got a Popsicle.)

Needless to say, by the time they were heading back to Canada's house, Germany was exhausted and exasperated.

Nevertheless, he had agreed to something and he would follow it to the best of his ability (after all he hadn't read the _Guide to Dating_ for nothing!). He straightened his shoulders, fixed his collar and wiped all annoyance and fatigue away from his features.

Turning to his Italian best friend, he then quickly fixed the other's collar and fixed how the jacket hung of his shoulders.

Better.

Now to face America and Canada, he ran the doorbell.

And as soon as it opened he was rendered speechless.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love you guys up in Northern Ontario. That is all.
> 
> In case you are wondering, for the female nations, I looked up the wiki for Hetalia and then looked at minor characters. All those mentioned are supposed to be girls, sorry if that is wrong, I would appreciate any corrections.
> 
> Why yes, it was indeed Hungary and Poland. I've never really written them before so I hope they're not OOC. Actually, I hope they're all not OOC.
> 
> The nosebleed thing has to do with most mangas I've read (like Wallflower) that when someone sees someone else attractive, they get one. Thought it might be fun to stick that in there.
> 
> Translations
> 
> ma chérie (Fr- My dear)  
> oui Papa (Fr - Yes Dad)  
> Tabernac (Qu Fr- Fuck)  
> igen (Hun- yes)


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own Hetalia or anything thing else or anyone else mentioned in the story. Just the plot.

As soon as the door opened, Germany was rendered speechless.

Not even their typical meetings could have prepared Ludwig for the sheer chaos that met his eyes.

Canada's normally neat house, was in shambles. Not only that, but what the occupants were doing just added to the insanity.

The pictures on the walls hung askew while unknown substances (that ranged in appearance from paint to pancake batter to blood) were splattered all over everything else. There was almost a mural on the ceiling and every bit of furniture that could be seen from the front hall was at least overturned if not broken.

However, all that barely registered with the German man. His shocked state had more to do with everything else. Poland had answered the door (when did he get there anyway?) and for reasons unknown was dressed as Lady Gaga in the _Born This Way_ video. Weird, yes, but stranger still was the sight of Kumajiro was running around, dressed up as Appa and covered in maple syrup while (it would appear) trying to run away from the bell tied to his tail. Japan was sitting on a table above the carnage, sipping tea while dressed as Grell, a chainsaw in his lap. Beside the table was an unconscious Francis dressed as Sanji...and there appeared to be blood? Best not to ask.

Moreover, beside the impromptu cosplay event, South Korea had appeared to have tackled a surprised Canada to the ground in a bear hug and was presently yelling in Korean so fast that Germany had no idea what he was saying and he doubted anyone else did. Prussia and America were trying to separate them while Hungary (dressed as Miku) was filming the entire thing.

When did she, Yong Soo and Feliks even get here anyway? No matter, there were a few things he didn't really want to know (though he got to later when he heard the NA siblings makeover story and Canada worrying about how she was going to still have a Tae Kwon Do class with Yong Soo).

Sighing deeply, he came in, handed the box of chocolates to Feli, rolled up his sleeves and did what he did best, cleaned and broke up the chaos.

Soon the walls, ceiling and floor was spotless, pictures righted, everyone was dressed normally, separated and clean again.

Luckily he had had the foresight to make the reservations two hours after they were supposed to pick them up, or they would've been very late. It was actually kinda sad he knew to do that, though he had assumed that it would've been Italy that held them up.

Instead, it was more Hungary and Poland who had commandeered the two North American girls after everyone (what did you think Germany would do it all himself?) had finished cleaning up to change out of what they had been wearing. Though that was understandable, after all, those articles of clothing had become casualties in whatever the heck had transpired earlier and needed to be washed desperately.

Waiting for the two to come back downstairs, Feli and him sat in the living room. Ludwig hoped that that time was soon as, they were sadly not alone.

Francis was presently regaling them with tales of his, _ahem_ , exploits and with advice. South Korea and North Italy were sitting there, listening attentively and... taking notes? That in itself was kind of an odd sight as Feliciano was viewed as the country of romance and Yong Soo was the self-proclaimed origin of all things to do with relationships. Prussia on the other hand just looked like he wanted to smack his friend. Japan then came in, giving Germany a much needed respite as he took the pot of tea from Kiku and began an earnest discussion on recent trade agreements between them.

Two pots of tea, an entire bucket of brain bleach, Prussia actually making France stop discussing the finer points of how to seduce the two and what felt like an eternity later, they at last heard the click of the door and the sound of footsteps.

Ludwig looked at his watch with a nod. Yep, if they left now, they would be perfectly on time for the reservation at 8.

Meeting their dates in the front hall, Germany at first blushed then when he saw Hungary in the corner of his eyes giving him an exasperated and expectant look, he managed to make eye contact (though his ears were bright red) and mumbled "You two look nice."

They looked more than nice, they looked beautiful. How they had never caught onto the charade before astounded him. He normally prided himself on being observant and meticulous with details yet he had never even guessed.

Both of them wore more form fitting clothes, with colours that brought out their natural qualities and just a hint of makeup to accent their features (especially their eyes, had Canada's always been that purple?) and had even _styled_ their hair, not just brushed but styled. America with shorter hair had spiked hers while Canada had curled the ends and restrained hers with a pale purple haidband with bangs falling at the side.

America wore a red tank top with gold embroidery and a denim jacket with black dress pants that flared ever so slightly at the bottom. She also had on a few bangles on her wrists, a choker and a pair of red stud earrings in newly pierced ears.

Canada, was dressed somewhat similarly  skirts and dresses were rarely worth it in this kind of cold and neither were used to wearing them anyway  wearing a pair of straight cut grey dress pants with a dark indigo turtleneck with a light red sash around her hips. She also had little jewellery, just a pair of dangly silver earrings and an aboriginal silver dollar pendant.

Germany was not the only one taking in the pair, not only did they rarely deign to wear suits (for obvious reasons now, those were so well tailored it would've given it away) but it was also really all of their first time seeing them in anything besides baggy clothes. With a little effort put into their appearance, the two looked unquestionably female (though without creating the air of fragility that some seem to exude) and beautiful.

However, neither Matt nor Al seemed to realize they were being stared at as they pulled on their clunky weather boots, thick winter jackets, mittens and tuques. In seconds, the two were back to looking like the same old Matthew and Alfred they had always been.

Shaking his stupor off, Germany approached America and offered her the chocolates he'd purchased earlier before offering her his arm.

As soon as contact was made however, all the wisdom the dating manual had provided along with all of Prussia's old courting advice (that didn't involve invasion) just flew out of his head and he was hit with nervousness. This type of battlefield, so to speak, was not his forte. He'd be the one given menial tasks to stay out of more competent fighters way while they went out and engaged the enemy. What does he do after this? Should he say something? Was this an actual serious date or were they going as friends? What did it mean if they were?

All that was left, ringing in his ears, was France's not so helpful words ('Give her a kiss boy!')

This might be a very long evening...

* * *

After a fairly harrowing drive - they had nearly run into a moose on the way, swerved, then narrowly escaped spinning out on a patch of black ice on the oncoming lane. They were all happy Canada had been behind the wheel in that moment  they managed to arrive safe at the hotel/restaurant, exactly on time.

The more casual tone for the evening was set when Feli, Matt and Al (being connoisseurs) had rejected the few wines that the place had. Instead  to Ludwig's relief as he was never a fan of the stuff anyway as it reminded him of his time in France's house during the Napoleonic War  they got beer. For the most part anyway- Feli had gotten a Strongbow cider but the rest of them had beer, Al a Guinness, Ludwig a Heineken (sadly there was no German beer on tap) and Matt a Keith's Red.

After they placed their orders for two bowls of stew, a hamburger and some fettuccine alfredo plus some soup and dumplings as appetizers, came the moment that Ludwig had been concerned about.

Small talk.

Which didn't sound forced, no, not at _all._

They did their best to avoid any sort of politics but as that was a very large portion of their lives and because they were the nations and as such were more influenced then their people were, most topics were now gone. They couldn't really talk about their jobs, government, economy, history, recent news or, god-forbid, _sports._ They had also known each other long enough that discussing interests, hobbies, past experiences or favourite anything also wouldn't really amount to much.

So far they had successfully talked about the weather.

For fifteen minutes.

So it was a relief when the dumplings and soup arrived, not only because he was hungry but because no one (including him) had to talk until they were done.

The food was very good, he noted while also appreciating the quiet...Wait, what?

Then it struck him, despite the fact he was eating with America and Italy (he honestly could not think of a time when he'd last eaten with the Canadian but she was related to Al, so she couldn't be much better), two of the messiest eaters he knew, there was quiet. There was no slurping of the soup, chewing with their mouths open, talking with their mouths full or clanking of cutlery as they were dropped on plates. In fact, there were no elbows on the table, everyone was sitting up straight, using cutlery, not reaching for things or waving of limbs (and the utensils in hand) and speaking. Wasn't this a change of pace? England, (the self-proclaimed gentleman) must have managed to instil more manners then anyone thought...

As if the food washed all the awkwardness away, easier conversation soon flowed and a more comfortable atmosphere came about.

By the time the plate of dumplings was finished, they were discussing their pets: Canada had Kuma-whatsis, America had Whale and Hero, Italy had Itacat and Germany had Aster, Berlitz, Blackie and Germouser. They had gone over tricks on getting them to the vet, what they fed them and amusing behaviour. America was halfway through an amusing story about Hero trying to steal her hamburger by climbing the drapes, leaping onto the light and dropping from above, only to miscalculate and end up in the filled sink, when the main dishes arrived.

When America and Italy laid their eyes on the food, the light atmosphere was gone as they descended upon it like two ravenous wolves on hapless prey.

Germany once again had no idea what to do, the bits of the manual he could recall had said nothing about this...

Then, not even more then a few bites in, the two began a discussion on their food, discussing the dish's finer points, where they had better, how they would rate it and just which was better, burgers or pasta?

Germany resisted the urge to facepalm his sore forehead, it had been going so great too... then danger sense flashing, he leaned back, narrowly dodging the fork in Italy's flailing hand.

Across the table, he noticed Matt avoiding Italy's fellow gesticulater waving hands by crouching down with a resigned look in her eyes. He guessed this happened frequently to her as well.

Looking quickly around the restaurant and taking note that it was nearly deserted, he came to a decision. Grabbing his bowl and drink, Ludwig subtly moved it to the next table over. Then, catching Canada's eye, he did the same thing with her food. Then as inconspicuously as they could, the two then moved over, and managed not to attract Al's and Feli's attention who's conversation had required then to put down their fork/food and begin waving both hands around.

Exchanging sympathetic and knowing smiles, they quietly dug in to their stews. It was an Irish Guinness stew with potatoes, onions, carrots, garlic, beef and parsley and had been cooked in Guinness giving it a rich flavour.

It was also perfect for this weather, with each bite warming them down to their toes.

Eating in silence, Germany soon began to shift in unease. It was odd, as often as desired it, he had never had more than five minutes of silence between Feli, Gilbert and his 'relatives' and now that he had it, he was very uncomfortable. He didn't even know what to say to alleviate what he felt to be a stifling silence.

* * *

The last time he had been with Canada like this  one on one  was in an interrogation after the Canadian had been captured following the very unsuccessful Dieppe raid.

...Maybe he need to get out more socially, cause that was kind of pathetic, even by his standards.

Concerning that incident though, he was fairly sure that Prussia had helped him...her, to escape which had been a bright moment in those hellish years. He had always felt that his respected adversary shouldn't ever be brought down to that level.

Canada had deserved to be met on a battlefield, nowhere else.

Matthew had been a monster, a demon, his own personal bogeyman in the First World War and (another name to the list) then, a spitfire in the Second War. The spirit he had encountered in that small room, being politely telling to go fuck himself well, his boss (he refused to ever acknowledge the megalomaniac bastard by name) should never have had even the chance to meet him. The things that asshole had planned for any captured personification could attest to that, so he couldn't really bring himself to care that Canada had escaped, that she hadn't had to go through that.

It had been worth the rant on how 'a newly emerging country, still attached to Mama England's apron strings', had gotten the better of him, the great Third Reich and then being sent to the Russian front for his carelessness.

In the decades that followed after that war, the fiend turned admirable opponent became something entirely new, the Canadian became a silent ally. Of course, being stuck between Al and Ivan as they had their 50 year temper tantrum, Matt couldn't afford to do so openly but helped in small ways. For instance, he had found boxes on his doorstep filled with copies of pictures that he had thought forever lost when Berlin burned and more than once, the Canadian had also sat with him during breaks in meetings, his old allies being forbidden from approaching him and the others too nervous to associate with him.

The one thing though, that she had done for him was small in it's description but huge when one realizes the circumstances.

It was something he had never expected from his former enemy (he guessed that she had forgiven him for what had happened before in that bunker) and it was something he could never thank her enough for.

She kept him and Gilbert in touch.

At first it wasn't much, each time he'd open his briefcase, without fail there would be a letter, note or scrap of paper from Prussia or an update on his brother in loopy handwritting. They were nothing but the truth and though sometimes unpleasant to read, they helped ease Germany's mind a little that at least his bruder was still alive and...coping. By the 70's he began to leave his own letters and notes in there for his bruder that would vanish.

So grateful was he for the communication, that it had never occurred to him to try and figure out who was doing it or how. It was only when Prussia had said with a hint of pride "That foolish Canadian, _segne seinem Herzen,_ had that ass Russia completely fooled, distracting him while me and the others got a bit of breathing room and correspondence from the West. If even for an hour, we could relax without worrying about him popping out of somewhere. He even brought us an chocolate bar each once Westen."

* * *

As if sensing he was dropping into memory, Canada lightly grabbed the top of his hand and gently smiled before saying ""Your stew is getting cold."

Silence broken, more comfortable chatter began between the two. They began talking about the arts, no longer worried about harsh criticism or unintentional condescending comment from art guru Feli or Hollywood Al. Mattie had been enthralled by Ludwig's tales of his theatres as he had about 300 of them (some even from the 18th century), he had seen some of the best shows ever played. From there they discussed Das Phantom der Oper, a play they had both seen and a book Matthew was very familiar with as a child, before that then blossomed into a talk about film.

Ludwig hadn't known that the Canadian even had much of a film industry and she soon had him silently laughing over _Les Boys, Meatballs, FUBAR_ and, of course, _Duct Tape Forever._ Seeing how amused he was over the duct tape Canadian Goose, she then began to told him about one of her favourites, _Bon Cop Bad Cop,_ which was so Canadian it hurt. It had a Québec cop and Ontario cop working together (badly), hockey, marijuana, murders over hockey and of course random grammar lessons.

"I can't think of the last time I saw Germany laugh like that without having downed two kegs worth of beer." America commented looking over at the table where her sister sat with wonder. (Also, when did they move? Very unheroic of them.)

"I'm glad, Germany can be so shy! It's good for him to have more than five human friends and three canine ones."

"In that case..." America got up and ran to the next table and tackling/glomping Germany into his newly finished bowl of stew. "Don't worry Luddy! The hero  I mean  the heroine will be your friend!"

Feli, not wanting to miss out on the fun then joined the group hug. "Me too Germania!"

"That's great Al, Feli. Now please get off me." said an exasperated Germany, his face full of tablecloth.

"No~!" The two chimed.

Standing up with a grin, Matt walked over and joined in. "Hug~ging!"

To Ludwig's great relief, the smothering session ended when a waitress came over with their second round of drinks for everyone but Matt who was now the D.D. being the only one with a valid licence and who had to settle for mango juice.

After being teased a bit for ditching them, the conversation struck up again over which nations they'd like to go sightseeing at and what attractions/sights they would like to see and soon evolved into which was better, Pepsi or Coke?

They stayed until the tired looking manager came over to tell them that the restaurant was closing. Surprised to hear it was almost midnight, they hastily paid the bill (leaving a generous tip!) and pulled back on all their heavy winter gear.

Fifteen minutes into the car ride, Germany realized that North Italy and him should have stayed behind considering they had booked rooms at the hotel that they had just left. Perhaps he was tipsier then he thought.

Turning to look into the back seat so as to talk to Italy, he instead gave a small fond smile when he realized both him and Al were asleep. Turning back to the front, he thought about the evening. This "date" he'd been dreading, wasn't quite as bad as he thought it would be. Yes, it was unproductive and without real purpose but it had been a good night and he was glad his friend had suggested it.

He had actually had quite a bit of fun.

"That was...nice.: said Matt, breaking the silence and unknowing echoing Ludwig's thoughts.

"Yeah, it was." Ludwig answered.

Then a thought occurred to his buzzed mind, had he been sober, he probably would've been too unsure to ask but hey, that's why it was called liquid courage. "Um, do you happen to have your phone on you?"

Nodding, the Canadian began fishing through her pockets one handed and eventually fished out a Crackberry (aka  a Blackberry) and passing it to him. "Why?"

Taking it, he answered "Well, you said that you'd really like to visit Berlin as just a tourist... so I was thinking if you are ever in my neck of the woods, I could maybe, show you around?" As he said this he began to click some of the keys. "Then I thought it would then be a good idea to give you my home phone number."

Smiling, she said, "That's a good idea Ludwig! Do you want mine so I could maybe return the favour? I'll also give you my personal email."

Ludwig was a bit surprised (and a bit pleased) by that. Most nations have a personal email but they rarely shared them with anyone they didn't feel very close to. He himself only had Prussia, Italy, Japan, Hungary and Austria in his contacts. That she was willing to share that... he had finally succeeded in making a good first impression!

"S-sure." Taking his own phone out, he typed in the phone number then the email into his contacts. Saving it, he gave it a cursory look over just in case before he snorted at the email username.

" _Imalumberjackandimokay_?"

Blushing a little, she briefly took her eyes off the road to glare at him. "Al made me the account alright?"

"I didn't mean anything negative, it just seemed very unlike you. Honestly I'm in the same boat, Gilbert made mine."

"Oh? What is yours then?"

"Ah-hah... Tell you later?" After he made a new one preferably. Maybe something like _lbeilschmidt._

"No no! You laughed at mine, cough it up."

"Well, um, you see, it was a very small joke between the two of us. Then he made me an email with it and when I objected, he looked so sad and dejected. I know he was only trying to be helpful and make me less stressed over the Unification (his doctor had refused to let him do any sort of work until he had fully healed) so I kept it because it made him happy."

"That's why I kept mine too. Don't worry Ludwig, I won't judge you based on an email account."

"Very well, it's... _whatsaworldwarbtwnfriends._ "

Matt chuckled. "Yeah, that does sound very like something Gilbert would come up with."

Pulling up the long driveway to her house, Canada then asked "So which one do you want to take inside?"  
Ludwig thought before saying, "I should probably take Italy, he's surprisingly heavy."

Climbing out and shivering at the sudden cold, they went back and got their companions. With Ludwig, carrying Feli bridal style and Matt had Al in a piggyback, they trudged to the front door.

The house was dark, Matt guessed that Hungary and the others had gone to the hotel to sleep in the rooms that had been reserved. Still, in case there were people sleeping over, she moved wuietly.

Leaving the wet things in the hall (she'd clean up later), they began to go up the stairs when a sudden weight crashed into Ludwig's back, knocking him into Canada and waking America and Veneziano up.

**"WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING TO MY BROTHER POTATO BASTARD?"**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In a review (on fanfiction.net) someone asked me if they should just picture Al and Matt as males in dresses. I didn't mean to give that impression, so to clear that up, no. Well, kinda. I mean, they've been trying to masquerade as males. I've been trying to write them as women who've spent the last 300 years or so dressing and acting as men did, their own mental identity is masculine and that's not likely to change in a few days – That is partly why they're so adverse to changing their names . With regards to their physical appearance, I've never imagined them with a very curvy figure (which then wouldn't have allowed them successfully pretend to be male), not like Ukraine's but something that could be hidden under the baggy clothes they're usually drawn in probably about a B cup.
> 
> To help with the mental image, Al could look kinda like Hilary Swank http : / / fashionfeen . files . wordpress . com / 2008 / 09 / hilary-swankpreview . jpg or Natalie Portman with short hair : / / allhairstyleshaircuts . com / celebrity-hairstyle / naomi-watts-hairstyles_clip_image008 . jpg and Matt could look kinda like Katherine Heigl maybe? http: / img2 . timeinc . net / instyle /  
> I hope that helps.
> 
> In case any of you are wondering about the beer, I looked through the top 10 beers bought in Ontario and picked the ones that (in my opinion) actually tasted good. Couldn't believe Bud Light made the list...it's too, well, light. These are the ones that most restaurants/pubs will have on tap, no matter where you are.
> 
> Chocolate wasn't exactly scarce in the USSR (as far as I was able to find out) but it was still quite the treat to have an entire one.
> 
> Translations  
> Segne seinem Herzen. (Ger- Bless his heart. I don't know if this expression translates but internet had nothing really conclusive on the subject.)  
> Das Phantom der Oper (Ger- Phantom of the Opera)  
> Germania (It- Germany)


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please keep in mind when reading this, if you think they're OOC for who they are, that Al and Matt grew up as males and have a masculine identity – due to growing up/being treated as males starting in the 17th century (or 1600's if you prefer) meaning that an effeminate qualities in them would've been looked down on.
> 
> The section below with Hungary and the others was partly inspired by Gothic Dancer's _The Hetalian Monster_ Chapter 5 on ff.net . I've tried to write it differently but as I found that chapter to very inspiring, I wanted to try and keep some elements in it. If you haven't read the story, I'd recommend it. :D
> 
> Last thing, I have never/barely written any of the female characters mentioned here (besides Ukraine) so any OOC corrections or tips would be helpful. With the more minor characters, there isn't a lot of description to go off of.
> 
> I don't own Hetalia.

"WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING TO MY BROTHER POTATO BASTARD?" Were the words that pierced the night of the house before Ludwig felt a weight crash into his back knocking him into Matt.

In that single moment, a number of things happened.

At first they both barely avoided a tumble down the stairs, Ludwig through years of practice dealing with the Italians and Matt by dropping Al's legs and leaning forward to catch herself, whacking her head off the banister as she did so.

"Owwww." She whispered, trying not to wake Al, cause if her sister woke up when she was carrying her...they would both assuredly take a tumble down the flight of stairs.

However that was not in the cards as the figure on her back jerked upright with a shout of "WHAAAAA?", sending them both backwards into Ludwig who was now supporting the weight of an irate Romano, Feliciano, Matt and Al.

Everyone within the nearby vicinity of the house would now be awake with the din they were makig as they rolled down the stairs, yelling and then crashing into the table on the opposite wall.

"Hghhh." "Ohhhhhw." "Ow" "GOD-DAMMIT!" "Naaagch."

Then the lights flicked on and Antonio loomed over the dog pile, big grin on his face. "Is everyone alright?"

A resounding groan was all he got from the mound of limbs.

"Ah good!" Was all he said cheerily before he walked out of the room.

From the bottom of the pile came a very quiet, muffled. "I hate all of you bastards so much right now."

Nobody moved  it hurt just a little too much at the moment to even think of doing so  and a few seconds later, Al nonchalantly commented. "I think I prefer the term bitch."

"...What."

* * *

"Let me get this straight. You, Alfred F. Jones, loud-mouthed idiot extraordinaire and oblivious bastard (*"I prefer bitch, definitely."), are a girl and managed to keep this hidden for a few centuries?"

They were in the living room after getting up from the dog pile (and breaking out the first aid kit), Lovi, Antonio and Feli were squished onto the couch while America spun around on the Ottoman. Ludwig and Mattie had been delegated to going to get tea and crackers for a midnight snack.

"Yep."

"Impossible."

"...Is it really that hard to believe?" Al said sadly. When both Lovino and Antonio continued to stare at her in disbelief and oblivious cheer (though Al knew better then most the conquistador that lay beneath that facade), she heaved a great sigh and stood up. Matt, bringing in tea to the room seemed to know exactly what she was planning as she threw the tray up in the air and darted forward. "AL NO!"

But she was too late.

As she stood, Al grabbed the hem of her shirt and hoisted it over her head exposing the blue lacy bra she was wearing underneath.

"GWAAAAAAA!" Lovino shrieked, arms flailing, trying to cover his eyes, Antonio's and Feliciano's all at once. "HAVE SOME SHAME WOMAN!"

Al had already pulled down her shirt and shrugged. "Well you believe me now right?"

"...Si."

"I think Alfredo makes a very pretty girl." Feli commented while Spain nodded, not wanting to say anything that might incur Lovino's wrath.

The Southern half of Italy took a deep calming breath, rubbing his forehead with one hand.

"Anything else you'd like to spring on me?"

"Um.. Mattie did too? The entire hiding-girl thing, not the flashing thing."

"Who?"

"Canadia."

"You know Al, there are times when I dislike you. Very, very much." Commented Canada from where she had slumped on the footstool (after all she hadn't had a nap and it was near one in the morning after a very long day).

"Huh?"

"Nevermind."

"Ah-Hem." Germany, sensing an opportune moment to butt in, cleared his throat and said. "Entschuldigen Sie, but a little help here, ja?" He had managed to catch the tea (with a little spilling of course) tray in his hands and the bowl of crackers with his elbow, and a saucer on top of his one foot but couldn't really move without dropping anything.

Canada, blushing, went to get them from him. "Sorry."

Their nice, quiet, peaceful evening seemed to descend into madness from there with three simple words.

Super. Smash. Brothers.

Despite the fact that they had been so tired they had slept on the way back and it was 2:30 in the morning, neither Feli or Al seemed to want to stop playing (they'd dragged Romano and Canada into it while Spain made some churros in the kitchen).

"Matt, are you even trying?" Al asked as she slaughtered her Ike again.

"Shaddup."

"Dude doesn't have any good distant attacks."

"Shaddup."

"You're normally so good at this game, what happened?"

"Do you still want me to play?"

"...yes."

"Then shaddup. Or else we're going to play Call of Duty and I will snipe you the entire time."

Mercifully the phone then rang and Matt excused herself to go answer it.

"Hello? Williams residence."

 _"Privet Canada!"_ Shouted a voice on the other end, was Ivan tipsy?

"Hello Russia." She answered, somewhat confused as to why he was calling so late.

_"I know this is sudden, but do you know how to rid of a polar bear when it's gnawing on your head?"_

"Ehhhh?...Um do you need to know now?" There is no way there could be a polar bear in the area where they went, must be a random question. No need to panic.

_"Why yes, I do need to know now."_

"...I can't say I've ever had that problem. Um. Don't pull away to start with, you'll get torn, open wounds and don't hit it in the head, that will only make it angrier. You said gnawing right, not biting? It's probably being playful (Though I've never heard of a bear being playful that way), you could try and get your arm or a block of wood into it's mouth and push back, that should make it let go  like a dog. Or if it's trying to eat you, you'll have to fight back in which case go for the eyes, nose and ribs. Does that help any? And where are you that you're dealing with polar bears?"

_"I will try."_

In the background Canada could then hear streams of Russian followed by a number of scuffling sounds and growls.

Could her night get any more ridiculous?

* * *

The others in the living room had paused the game to listen to half of what had to among the strangest conversations they had ever heard.

"HOW THE HELL DID YOU GET TO MOOSE FACTORY? WE'RE AN HOUR AWAY FROM TIMMINS, THAT'S MORE THEN SIX HOURS NORTH FROM HERE! THERE ISN'T EVEN ROADS BETWEEN THE TWO... Of course Ontario had something to do with it...I'll be right there, just keep Arthur from harassing any more bears. Please?...Goodbye, see you soon."

Matthew stood in the hallway for a moment or two, looking at the beeping phone in her hand so Al deemed it the opportune time to find out what was going on.

"Matt, what?"

"Ivan, Jean, Vincent and Arthur went pub crawling. They got very drunk, Jean kept harassing Vincent saying he was too dependant on maps to get himself where he needed to go and Vincent bet him that he could get them home without one and opened the Path instead to Moose Factory. Then he refused to take them back saying that he knew the house was around there somewhere and ended up antagonizing polar bears with Arthur."

Ah the Path. A spell first placed on the nations in the early 1000's for easy travel, it was modified so that nations could only open portals to places on their own land after a few issues. So Ontario could only open the Path to places in Ontario and England could only open it to places in England.

Meaning that they were stuck up near Hudson's Bay until they could either get a bush plane back or Matt went to go get them.

"Can I come to?" Al said jumping up and fist pumping excitedly.

"Um...sure you can on one condition. You agree that after this we are going to bed alright?"

"Fi-ne."

"Good. Now go put some really warm things on."

* * *

A few minutes later, the two were back in the foyer with long johns, sweat pants, two kinds of socks, a turtleneck and a sweater on each. After which they put on snow pants, large winter jackets, a tuque (Matt lent Al one), gloves, scarves and serious winter boots (aka not fashionable ones but big clunky ones).

"Ready?" Matt asked before she grabbed her sister's hand and opened the Path.

In that second, Al felt herself from uncomfortably hot to being very glad for all the layers. They looked around the darkened landscape.

"Ivan? We're here! Where are you?"

To their laft a snow bank shivered before Russia popped out of it.

"Ah, Matvey! That was quick!"

"Good to see you Russia...where is everyone else?"

"They didn't leave the polar bears alone..." He said, looking exhausted.

"So you lost them?"

"Not quite."

They heard thundering footsteps behind them and turning, they saw some polar bears run past being chased by Québec and Ontario who were shirtless and shoeless and shouting abuse at them. Then behind them was England in little more than an apron sitting on top of another bear, shouting out very old English and Pirate slang.

There was a second of silence as the two tried to process what they had just seen (and figure out why the bears hadn't mauled them yet) before surprisingly Ivan offered them one of his bottles of vodka that he was carrying.

"Oh dear Artie..." Al whispered, eyes wide in shock, taking a swig from the bottle.

"Who gave him rum?" Was all Matt really wanted to know at this point, hand groping for the vodka as her eyes seemed unable to leave the scene.

* * *

Al opened her eyes blearily, before sitting up with a jolt.

This was not her room.

This was not even her room in Mattie's house or even Mattie's room in Mattie's house.

How?... Let's see the last thing she remembered was sitting in the snowbank with Matt and Ivan, waiting for the other three to run out of energy so they could collect them easier. She remembered carrying Artie and going back to her sister's house then...nothing.

Hmm. Think! She needed to remember. Just what did they do?

She wasn't wearing any clothes besides a bra and some underwear, which should help with the remembering... Nope. She had nothing.

Then she felt her brain shut down when she heard sheets rustling. Ever so slowly, she turned her head to the side to see the source of the sound.

Holy crap, Matt was going to murder her with a toothpick. Was what she thought as she stifled a yelp that was working it's way up her throat. Beside her was a very naked Jean snuggling with an at least topless Vincent. She hadn't done anything with her nephews, had she?

She then felt bare skin brush against her other thigh and she whirled her head around to see Ivan on her other side.

She could not contain her reaction this time and gave a great scream while attempting to get away from her former enemy before she fell over the two provinces, tangled herself in the sheets and hit the ground with a solid **Thunk** as everyone else jolted awake either with her yell or by being fallen on.

As she lay there, dazed, her mind registered the sound of hurried feet before the bedroom door slammed open and a voice she recognized (but yet could not place) said. "Is everyone alright? Who screamed?"

With a groan Jean said. "I'm fine, though when feeling returns to my spleen, I'll let you know."

Wriggling a little out of her sheet straight jacket, Al managed to see the door and shouted with delight. "Artie!" (The British accent should have given it away really.)

There was another set of steps before Matt pocked her head into the room, then Al panicked. Shrugging the sheets off, she ran over to her sister. "Matt! I swear this isn't what it looks like! I didn't sleep with your nephews! Or with the Commie! Or at least I don't think I did, but I wouldn't have, because that would be so unheroic and I'm the hero so I wouldn't ever do that so please don't hate me I didn't do ittttttttttttttttttttttttttt."

Matt just blinked at her and dryly said. "I'm impressed you said that all in one breath Al."

Arthur then just shook his head. "She knows you didn't you silly git. She was too drunk last night to open the Path on her own so between her and Jean, she managed to jump us to his apartment. We all slept in that bed (cause his guest room was fun of junk) last night, I'm sure if two of us did do anything, the others would've woken up."

Al's shoulders sagged in relief. "Thank goodness."

"Not that I'm complaining about the view Amerika, but are you not cold?" Asked Ivan mischievously.

America looked down then dove for the sheets on the ground. "Don't look Commieee!"

Arthur commented as he and Matt left the room. "Canada has made pancakes so you lot better hurry downstairs before the bear eats them all. Oh, and Al, Hungary is at the other house to pick you two up so you better be quick, Elizabeta's not the most patient woman."

When Al just looked at him blankly, the Brit sighed. "You know, that lunch that she was telling you about? Today, Liechtenstein at 12:40?"

Her eyes widened in comprehension as he continued. "Your flight leaves in an hour and with the time difference, you should be arriving with 30 minutes to spare, but you had best get going to clear customs and whatnot."

As he finished, he realized he was just talking to Ivan and the two provinces, the American having run out of the room with stealth that would've put any spy or ninja to shame.

* * *

They managed to get on the plane and to their seats just before the last boarding call and upon their arrival, Alfred turned to Matthew and Elizabeta and asked Hungary. "So just who's going to be at this shindig anyway?"

"All the female nations might be attending." Answered Elizabeta.

"So Liechtenstein, Monaco, Wy, Czech, Ireland, Kenya, Ghana,Vietnam, Belgium, Seychelles, Ukraine, Belarus, Taiwan and you?"

" Owari and Sendai too along with a few other city/states/provinces sometimes come, though not frequently."

"So who's coming this time?" America asked as they pulled up in front of the house that both Liechtenstein and Switzerland shared.

"I'm not sure yet. We typically don't until the meeting starts."

"Alright."

Going up to the door, Hungary used the old Lion knocker and then they waited. They heard the clicks of several locks before the door opened and a gun was shoved into America's face, then Canada's.

"What are you two doing here?" Switzerland snarled. "This is a female nation luncheon only."

"Then why are you here?" America asked, genuinely curious.

"Ever hear of the Swiss guard?" He answered sharply. "I'm guarding. Now again. Why are you here?"

Hungary gently lowered the gun with one hand. "They're with me, and they are here for the luncheon  there's something they're been hiding for a while."

"Hmm?" Said Switzerland confused.

"They're female." Hungary deadpanned, undoing Matt's winter jacket, revealing her tight fighting blouse.

Switzerland blushed and waved them in.

America called over her shoulder. "Switzy, me and Canada here would appreciate if you didn't tell anyone. We're going to be telling everyone at the next meeting and we'd prefer it if they heard it from us."

He bristled somewhat at the nickname but nodded his compliance to the request.

* * *

Laying in the cleared out apartment on the bed, watching the clouds go by was Vincent and Jean, the others having been dropped back at Canada's house.

Jean took a lazy drag on his cigarette, exhaling the pale smoke into the air.

"So..."

"Yeah."

"I can't quite believe that the jig is up."

"Chu sais. It's very strange."

There was a moment of quiet before Québec jerked upright and whirled to face his brother.

"Câlisse mon vieux! You know what dis means?"

"Um...No?" Vincent answered, propping himself up on his elbows to see Jean's face better.

"Nous pouvons coupé notre cheveux!"

"Hmm?"

"We can finally cut our hair!"

The two looked at each other for an instance before they both simultaneously got up, grabbed their wallets, keys and coats (shoving their boots on) and ran out the door.

Forty-five minutes later, they could be seen leaving the hair dressers, Vincent with ear length hair and red tips and Jean with short spiky blue hair. After all, due to them masquerading as their "Mom", they had had to keep their hair the same for centuries. It was nice to have a bit of a change.

* * *

Matt and Al felt pinned to their chairs, like a beetle on a card, by the attention they were getting from the other female nations. Not even all of the female nations were there  only Liechtenstein, Monaco, Ireland, Vietnam, Belgium, Seychelles, Ukraine, Belarus and Taiwan had been able to come. Others being unable to do so due to work or politics or... other things. Al wasn't entirely sure and didn't really feel like asking.

These meetings seemed to be a place where the female nations could get away from the judgement of their fellows  after all women's movements were a very recent thing and the boys still seemed to think they should be as lady-like as possible all the time. Here, they ate as much as they wanted, they drank as much as they wanted, they behaved as they wanted. They were no longer the demure, quiet nations the two North Americans were used to, but loud, opinionated, intelligent individuals. They were seated on or sprawling across the floor, cushions around them. They hadn't bothered with their makeup or clothing, not today. Belgium chugged a Cream Soda and belched loudly, Taiwan was no longer wearing her frilly girl dress but rather a black punk band shirt (BB Bomb) and ripped jeans and Ukraine vented her frustrations about males in general harassing her for her great tracks of land.

It was honestly intimidating.

When they came in, conversation had completely stopped and they were instantly swamped with questions all at once. They had covered makeup tips and techniques they used to conceal themselves (Belarus was particularly interested taking notes on disguises) and how they should 'come out' with at the World Meeting in a week (which was followed by the traditional yearly Mardi Gras Party/Carnival).

Hungary, seeing their discomfort changed the topic to fashion  what they were going to be wearing for the Mardi Gras Party that the Italians were hosting this year and who they were going with. The conversation then flowed to a dinner party Belgium was having and then light gossip about what was going on in politics at the time. However after about a half hour, their reprieve was over when the conversation took a darker turn, to a topic Canada and America had been dreading:

Relationships.

Which caused them to suddenly focus on the two them again. Eventually, it was wormed from them that up until yesterday, they had never gone on a date or had even agreed to go get coffee casually with someone for fear of what it could evolve into. Then when the girls found out _who_ it was had taken them out to dinner, all hell broke loose as everyone tried to talk at once.

"Feli did what!" "In front of Ludwig?" "The old stick in the mud agreed to that?" "Was it awkward?" "Of course the Italian suggested it." "How was the food?" "Poor Ludwig." "It's good to see them moving on."

Needless to say both Al and Matt were confused about the sudden outburst. Surprisingly enough, it was Liechtenstein who noticed first and decided to fill them in.

"Not many of the others know...In fact, we all really only know because of Hungary and myself. Ludwig and Feliciano were dating following the end of the First World War. North Italy moved in when he got a job helping Germany make coo-coo clocks and they slowly fell for each other. At Ludwig's insistence, they kept it fairly quiet and they were happy for awhile. It became strained after Germany's boss came into power and refused to see his strong country with one he deemed to be weak but they were both determined to see it through. They met in secret but as the war progressed things began to get tense between them. By the end of the war, they both agreed to call it quits  in the past four decades there had been too many betrayals, too many secrets, too much heartache between them. They still loved each other but because of the decisions of their leaders and what their countries had been through, there was no longer that trust between them. They needed time to rebuild and space to figure out what they wanted."

Al and Matt stared at her, opened mouthed. "Wow." Al muttered. "I never would've guessed."

"That's probably because you were busy with the beginning of the Cold War and it ended before you took possession of part of Ludwig's lands."

"That or pretending you were a boy, made you as oblivious as one." said Vietnam with a smirk.

Alfred just laughed good naturedly "It's a disease! Obliviousness is catching."

"In that case, Matt's doomed." Said Katyusha, elbowing Matt in the ribs. Canada, not paying attention fell over in surprise onto Seychelles who proceeded to bop her with a pillow.

An enormous grin spread over Al's face. "PILLOW FIGHT!" and over the next few minutes the stuffing was knocked out of the fluffy things.

_One moment of silence for those poor puffy suckers that bit the dust._

...

..

.

* * *

As everyone lay breathless on the remnants of feathers and clothe, Belgium asked. "Sooo. Speaking of relationships. Is there anyone you two like?~"

Both North Americans turned red and attempted to stutter out an answer, which was in and of itself a response.

Monaco smirked. "Oh~ THAT would be a yes. N'est pas Mathieu?"

Taiwan sqweeded and leaned closer. "Tell us!"

"Um...The hero...heroin...heroine?...The Hero likes no one! Nope. I'm a lone wolf! Happy to stay that way!"

Belarus just chuckled. "Amerika, you realize that wolves are pack animals? They would not be happy to be 'lone'."

"...My point remains!"

"Are you sure?" Ireland purred. "I can recall a night a century ago when you came to me with a crush..." She was silenced by America diving forward and placing a hand over her mouth.

"Please Aunt Caitlìn, I will pay your bar tab for the next year if you don't say _anything._ Please?"

Ireland just chuckled then smirked. "You realize I was just testing if you still felt that way. Don't worry about the tab lassy, if it works out that'll be enough."

Liechtenstein looked put out and gave Al the best puppy eyes she could. "So you won't tell us?"

"Not until I figure things out for myself." Al responded before visibly breaking under the power of the Germanic nation's puppy eyes. "When I do, I'll tell you, promise, okay? For now I'll just give you a bit of a hint, he's been both an ally and an enemy to me."

That decided, Matt could see their attentions visibly shift to her. Eek.

They scrutinized her for a moment before Monaco slyly commented. "Is it that Prusse you are forever talking about at the Francophonie meetings?"

Matt turned red but shook her head and said shyly. "I had a bit of a crush on him awhile back but when I told him, he rejected me as nicely as he could. He said though he did like me, that he wasn't ready for a relationship because he was still hurting from when had been led on and hurt by someone very badly in the past...When he found out we were girls, he took me to the side and told me he felt that I was his sister, and to me, he's become my big brother. That's all."

Seychelles opened her mouth, closed it, thought about it for a moment before saying. "Is it... maybe Netherlands? You two are rather close are you not?"

Belgium perked up at this. "Is it oudere broer? He does send you tulips."

Matt again shook her head. "No, he's interested in someone else too."

Ireland and Monaco looked somewhat stumped but Seychelles and Belgium just looked determined to guess right.

"Err. I don't suppose you guys would believe me if I said that I wasn't interested in anyone would you?"

"Nope." Said Ukraine cheerfully. "That wouldn't be any fun."

Looking for a diversion, Matt quickly turned to Hungary who had been strangely quiet and said "SOOO, um. Hungary. How are you and Austria doing?"

She jolted as though she had forgotten she was beside the Canadian (she could have) "Gah! Fine! Fine! We're doing fine!"

"Methinks the lady doth protest too much!" Said Ireland gleefully. "Spill! You know the lady's pact. Nothing said leaves this room and cannot be used against us. Tellllllll."

"Vitenam! How is your and Thailand's relationship doing?" Hungary said, turning to the Asian nation beside her.

Vietnam laughed. "You know Ireland can't be put off that easily. Though we're doing good, thank you for asking."

The rest of the afternoon passed in a blur and reluctantly Al and Matt bid them a good-night and Canada opened the Path back to her own home.

Their moment of quiet did not last long as as soon as they stepped inside the house, Vincent and Jean were upon them and began to babble as siblings do  finishing each others sentances.

"Mom..."

"...don't get mad..."

"...but we called the boss to let him know that there are some nations staying here like you asked..."

"...and he found out that they know..."

"...so he called the others in a panic..."

"And they're all coming over tomorrow!" They finished simultaneously.

She looked speechless before she reached forward with a shaky hand and rubbed the top of their heads. "What did you do to your hair boys?" She asked.

"Yeah. Like that should be your biggest concern." Jean muttered. "I'll re-iterate. All of the provinces and territories are coming over tomorrow. We haven't had all of us in the house at once since the Thanksgiving incident of '76!"

That seemed to shake her out of her stupor. "What." She deadpanned.

Ontario and Québec began to tug their mother away, leaving Al alone in the hall.

How were here states doing? Perhaps she should invite them up for a family get together. Then she remembered the last time she and Matt had attempted that...those poor ducks, they were probably never the same again. That incident was even more infamous in North America then the Thanksgiving incident and it was the last time they had her's, Mattie's and Maria's kids over at the same time.

Bad idea.

So lost was she in the flashback of the chaos that resulted, she didn't hear someone behind her until they placed a hand on her shoulder.

"You alright America?" Asked Spain.

"I'm fine..." She said absentmindedly as she tried to calm down her racing heart. "Just thinking."

"Ah. I see. I came back because Lovi forgot his wallet and he asked me nicely to go get it for him, but everyone else is down in the town hall. There's a big dance tonight, do you want to come with me?"

Hearing a vacuum in the distance and knowing Matt would conscript her into helping her clean as much as possible while hiding all breakable things, she energetically nodded.

"Bueno! Let's go then!" He said enthusiastically, waving the wallet in the air.

* * *

When they were at last back at the hall turned club, Antonio pulled a mask out of his pocket and said with a wink "It's a masquerade~" Before worming his way through a crowd of people.

Al went over to the ticket booth and bought her own ticket and mask and before she knew it was swept up into the music and the mass of moving bodies.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations  
> Si (It- yes)  
> Entschuldigen Sie (Ger- Excuse me/Pardon me/Sorry)  
> Ja (Ger- yes)  
> Privet (Привет) (Rus- Hello)  
> Chu Sais (Qu jargon- I know)  
> Câlisse mon vieux! (Qu jargon- Fuck man/dude!)  
> Nous pouvons coupé notre cheveux! (Qu jargon- we can get our hair cut)  
> N'est pas (Fr- Is it not/No)  
> Amerika (Rus- America)  
> Caitlìn (Gae- Kathleen)  
> Prusse (Fr- Prussia)  
> Francophonie (Fr- It's a institution type thing for French speaking nations to decide new French words and which slang should be accepted, etc)  
> oudere broer (Dut- Big brother)  
> Bueno! (Sp- Good)


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Provinces are based off of the iammatthewinian project and my own knowledge/experience. States – are off of other people's fics, I have been to Florida and Minnesota but that was a long time ago so I don't have a lot to go off of. For this chapter I've been usingJerichosPhantom's story America and his United States and the internets! They might play a bigger role if I get a better feel for them but so far- they're restricted to phone calls and emails.
> 
> I don't own Hetalia

"It's a masquerade~" Antonio said with a wink before vanishing.

Al looked down at the great purple mask (it would cover her entire face but her mouth) with red, yellow and blue feathers dubiously. She was starting to have second thoughts, this was rather gaudy  even by her somewhat eccentric tastes. Especially when at closer inspection, it was revealed to have a liberal covering of sparkles, the herpes of craft supplies (it gets everywhere and you're never completely rid of it :P)

...Ah well, it was better then helping Mattie clean she decided, drawing a deep breath through her nose, the place smelt of perfume, sweat and adrenaline, just like a club would. Getting a bit more into the mood, she slipped the strap over the back of her head, pulling the mask down to snugly fit her face. _Now where was the bartender, baby needs a drink!_ She thought as she began to weave through the crowd aiming to get to where a group of people were crowding around a counter.

Her instincts correct, she was soon nursing a rum and coke and watching the crowd.

This was all very new for her, and she was very nervous. The few times she and Mattie had gone to clubs, they had gone as men. Meaning that the few times they had danced, they were the ones that approached the girls, not waiting to be asked.

And the waiting was killing her inside.

Ask anyone, and they would tell you, America? Not good at waiting.

She wanted to go out on the dance floor but she didn't really want to dance on her own, just in case she got prepositioned by some creep, that and there was no way she was leaving her drink unguarded. So she leaned back against the counter and people watched, joining the ranks of numerous wall flowers.

There was a good variety of music, which made sense  anyone over the legal limit within a good 300 kilometre radius was here. With slower songs, she watched older dancers seem to glide across the floor, fluid and flawless as they twirled and swished across the floor remembering the steps from their youth with ease. When some began to do the jitterbug, she itched to go joining them but she doubted any boy be interested in being thrown around and most girls would be weirded out be her asking. If they even knew the steps... Where were the others? She could dance with them. She thought fidgeting, wanting desperately to be out there on the dance floor, moving, dancing but feeling somewhat insecure and not wanting to dance with herself...However the old song changed before she could locate any of them into a more modern techno one with a fast bass line and just like that, the crowds switched as the teens took to the floor, leaving little space between themselves, swaying, jumping, grinding to the beat.

It was during this song, while she was finishing up her third rum and coke and her head began to feel a little floaty that a young boy with a green mask approached her. Almost wanting to ask him if his mother knew if he was out, she bit her tongue when she belatedly remembered that Canada had a lower drinking age then she did.

Though on the other hand it seemed a little creepy that an 18 year old was asking her to dance when she was a few centuries his senior. Yet, they were just dancing so where was the harm? It wasn't like she was a major creeper, she just wanted to dance, if it got weird, she could just excuse herself. Mind made up, she nodded her acceptance and took his hand and was lead onto the dance floor.

Before she knew it, she was swept up into the music and the mass of moving bodies. She could feel the bass in her bones while beats seemed to thrum through her veins, the sensation was incredible. It had been far too long since the her and Mattie had gone dancing like this. Over the next few songs she had had a number of dance partners since that first boy as a number of others had continuously approached her as she made to leave. Before she knew it, hours had passed.

 _It had definitely been too long;_ she thought with a sigh. To be able to relax in a crowd like this, to just enjoy the night and not worry about hiding themselves. On the floor, no one knows who you are, where you're from or what you do. No one really cares. They're just here for the same reason: to loose themselves in the music, have a few drinks and forget about the serious world for a little while  and if they're lucky maybe go home with a companion.

She was just thinking about tracking down Antonio and the others again (who she had strangely still not seen hide nor hair of) when a Meatloaf song began to blare from the speakers. And not just any song, but _Paradise at the Dashboard Lights._

Almost instantly, the dance floor was filled with people as it simultaneously split into two factions of all ages, girls on one side, boys on the other, staring each other up and sizing the one across from them up. At first as the intro played both sides were frozen, some in ridiculous poses but the majority just string each other down. Then as the lyrics started, the boys began to dance around the girls as the male part began, the girls doing their best to look unimpressed (though many were trying hard not to laugh)

_I remember every little thing  
As if it happened only yesterday  
Parking by the lake  
And there was not another car in sight  
And I never had a girl  
Looking any better than you did  
And all the kids at school  
They were wishing they were me that night_

_And now our bodies are oh so close and tight  
It never felt so good, it never felt so right  
And we're glowing like the metal on the edge of a knife  
C'mon! Hold on tight!  
C'mon! Hold on tight!_

_Though it's cold and lonely in the deep dark night  
I can see paradise by the dashboard light_

When the girl part broke in, the women managed to grab the others and push them back as they in turn began to move, albeit with a lot more purpose then the boys had done earlier.

_Ain't no doubt about it  
We were doubly blessed  
Cause we were barely seventeen  
And we were barely dressed_

_Ain't no doubt about it  
Baby got to go and shout it  
Ain't no doubt about it  
We were doubly blessed_

As the song continued, both sides continued to dance around each other; hands reaching, twirling in then out of reach and all the while moving around the dance floor while never quite coming into contact with the other.

It felt almost like something choreographed as they began to move faster around the floor until everyone whirled to a stop as the "radio" part began, some inches from each other, once again staring down the person opposite them.

_Ok, here we go, we got a real pressure cooker  
going here, two down, nobody on, no score,  
bottom of the ninth, there's the wind-up and  
there it is, a line shot up the middle, look  
at him go. This boy can really fly!  
He's rounding first and really turning it on  
now, he's not letting up at all, he's gonna  
try for second; the ball is bobbled out in centre,  
and here comes the throw, and what a throw!  
He's gonna slide in head first, here he comes, he's out!  
No, wait, safe-safe at second base, this kid really  
makes things happen out there.  
Batter steps up to the plate, here's the pitch-  
he's going, and what a jump he's got, he's trying  
for third, here's the throw, it's in the dirt-  
safe at third! Holy cow, stolen base!  
He's taking a pretty big lead out there, almost  
daring him to try and pick him off. The pitcher  
glance over, winds up, and it's bunted, bunted  
down the third base line, the suicide squeeze in on!  
Here he comes, squeeze play, it's gonna be close,  
here's the throw, there's the play at the plate,  
holy cow, I think he's gonna make it!_

Then when the girl's solo part started. Miraculously still in two lines, the girls then began to sing to the boys across from them, stepping closer as the boys backtracked.

_Stop right there!  
I gotta know right now!  
Before we go any further-!_

_Do you love me?  
Will you love me forever?  
Do you need me?  
Will you never leave me?  
Will you make me so happy for the rest of my life?  
Will you take me away and will you make me your wife?  
Do you love me!  
Will you love me forever!  
Do you need me!  
Will you never leave me!  
Will you make me so happy for the rest of my life!  
Will you take me away and will you make me your wife!  
I gotta know right now  
Before we go any further  
Do you love me!  
Will you love me forever!_

As Al began to sing to the boy across from her, she noted his dark eyes glinting with inner amusement especially once the boy's part came back and he was singing his 'answer'.

_Let me sleep on it  
Baby, baby let me sleep on it  
Let me sleep on it  
And I'll give you my answer in the morning_

_Let me sleep on it  
Baby, baby let me sleep on it  
Let me sleep on it  
And I'll give you my answer in the morning_

_Let me sleep on it  
Baby, baby let me sleep on it  
Let me sleep on it  
And I'll give you my answer in the morning_

As the song switched back and forth between parts the pairs began to dance around each other, seeming to almost tango, getting closer and closer...

_I gotta know right now!  
Do you love me?  
Will you love me forever?  
Do you need me?  
Will you never leave me?  
Will you make me so happy for the rest of my life?  
Will you take me away and will you make me your wife?  
I gotta know right now!  
Before we go any further  
Do you love me?  
And will you love me forever?_

_Let me sleep on it  
Baby, baby let me sleep on it  
Let me sleep on it  
And I'll give you my answer in the morning  
Let me sleep on it!_

_Will you love me forever?_

_Let me sleep on it!_

_Will you love me forever?_

Millimetres from each other, when the song hit it's climax, she found herself in her partners arms. Al noted with surprise that despite looking a bit scrawny and young, he knew his way around the dance floor as he led her in actual salsa steps...and he could really sing too.

_I couldn't take it any longer  
Lord I was crazed  
And when the feeling came upon me  
Like a tidal wave  
I started swearing to my god and on my mother's grave  
That I would love you to the end of time  
I swore that I would love you to the end of time!_

Then with a cheeky smile he looked down at her but gently letting her go and dancing away with the rest of boys and soon both partners were dancing around each other again.

_So now I'm praying for the end of time  
To hurry up and arrive  
Cause if I gotta spend another minute with you  
I don't think that I can really survive  
I'll never break my promise or forget my vow  
But God only knows what I can do right now  
I'm praying for the end of time  
It's all that I can do  
Praying for the end of time, so I can end my time with you!_

The song seemed to last forever in that darkened rooms with random lights flashing and Al found herself wishing that it actually would...She was enjoying herself far too much to stop. However, as the saying goes, all good things must come to an end and with the last word of the song, her partner leaned in ever so slightly and gave her a gentle peck on the lips, before running off with a wink.

Al stood there for a moment in a stupor, what had  did she just...? Her first kiss... She brushed her lips thoughtfully, _who knew boys lips were so soft_?

Frozen on the spot as she tried to figure out how to react, she saw out of the corner of her eyes two boys dancing together, one with a sparkly red and green mask and the other with a feather covered red and gold one. She knew that first mask. Throwing away her confusion over what just happened and repressing it using the infamous _British Stiff Upper Lip,_ she ran over and flying tackled the two with a shout of "HERO!"

Lovino was not impressed.

* * *

Canada flopped down on the couch feeling physically and mentally drained. The house was cleaned, her precious and breakable things were all put away and she had enough food to feed an army for a month (so it should last them a week at least). Tomorrow was going to be unpleasant. She loved her brood, she really did, it was that they all just didn't get along and she knew that sooner or later, there would be a trip to the hospital.

It might be because of a fight between Manitoba and Saskatchewan over football, Newfoundland and Labrador arguing with Nova Scotia over whose alcohol was better or Québec and Ontario might snap at each other (though since her boys had started dating they had mellowed out considerably) or, who knew really? Each of her children had grudges against the other twelve so it was more a question of just who's buttons would get pushed first. It might just start over hockey this time as now there was another hockey team (Winnipeg Jets!) North of the border, further dividing her childrens loyalties.

At least America's kids weren't coming up. If her thirteen were going to be a handful (they were very protective of her after all), she could only imagine what would happen with Al's fifty got involved. Especially with that lovely amendment that gave them the right to bear arms which they even tried to exercise on her side of the border.

Hearing the phone ring, she looked down at the caller display and groaned.

Speak of the devil and he will call?

The name Michigan flashed balefully at her on the caller display. She shouldn't think that, after all the girl was her niece and suffered a similar invisibility as her (they guessed from when she was part of Upper Canada) and they were good friends for it.

May as well get it over with.

"Hello?"

"Hey Auntie Matt!"

"What's up Michigan?"

"Well...Cali found out from BC who then told Florida who told Delaware who told me that everyone found out about you two! Me and Pennsylvania want to know if it's true!"

Stifling the urge to correct her niece that it was _Pennsylvania and I,_ Matt sat down on the nearby chesterfield and answered. "That's partially true. It was only the G8, Poland, Spain and all the female nations (though the girls already knew apparently) who've found out..."

Listening closely she could hear Pennsylvania and Michigan freaking out in the background before she heard the fumbling of the phone then had her eardrum blown out by her other well meaning niece.

"DO WE NEED TO GO UP THERE AND KICK THEIR UNAWESOME ASSES?"

"No it's alright Penn." She replied trying to hide her amusement in her reply, the state sounded so much like her best friend.

"Well, you better let us know if someone's bullying Mom or you , alright? We'll come up and set them straight."

"Good to know Penn, though I don't think that we would really need to set any of you on anyone who tried something like that with America or I. One, it would be unnecessarily cruel (I remember the duck incident, you know that poor bird didn't bite Al intentionally right?) and for another, you'd have to beat up whatever was left after we finished with them."

Michigan stole the phone back from her sibling. "We know _that._ It's just that way you two don't have to get your hands dirty with any trash who'd try and pull some stunt on you."

Matt suppressed a groan. Why were their states so curst overprotective of them? "That's sweet but I rather take my own fights but I appreciate the sentiment."

Just then the doorbell rang. "Sorry Mich and Penn, I gotta go, someone's at the door.."

"Alright Aunt Matt." Said Michigan reluctantly . "Don't take any guff from them okay?"

"Alright. See you around."

"Bye."

"Bye."

Hanging up the phone, Canada stood up and stretched before the doorbell rang impatiently again.

"I'm comin', I'm comin'." Canada shouted as she padded over to the door.

* * *

Russia woke the next morning feeling very pleased with himself. What a good night that had been! Little Matvey's people had thrown an excellent party (not to mention it had been open bar! Vodka~) and best of all, at the end of the night, his Yao had given him a call!

He missed China terribly but his boss told him that he wasn't to go back until they had at last had the G8 meeting and he had presented his updates.

Stupid boss.

Rolling out of the hotel bed, he dressed with determination. Today they would get the darn thing over and done with  while he had enjoyed his stay, he wanted to go home.

So when he went downstairs for the complementary breakfast he went over to talk with England, Japan, Germany and North Italy (who were all early risers except for Italy who was made to get up by Germany as they had shared a room), they agreed that they would hold the meeting at Canada's.

As they went back up to their rooms, England knocked on the room that America had spent the night in (there hadn't been anyone sober enough to drive back to Canada's) and asked her to tell Canada their plans. America had blearily agreed and demanded coffee (though as she went back to bed, she didn't get any) and so at 9:30, everyone was in the lobby, with their laptops, charts and presentations and then they were off to Canada's house.

The sky was a gorgeous pale blue and due to the snowfall the night before, the entire area was covered in an undisturbed blanket of snow. Pulling up to Matt's house (which looked like something from a calendar), Russia curiously noted a number of snowmobile, snowshoe and cross country ski tracks in addition to a few more car tracks, though perhaps Canada had had some errands to run early that morning.

America trudged over to the door as everyone else got their things from the car and went inside, kicking off her boats and shucking her coat quickly, she made a beeline for the kitchen and the coffee maker. To her delight, the pot was already filled so she had one black then a second and... when did someone get beside her?

"EEP! What are you doing here BC?"

Her niece just smirked at her over her own mug of coffee.

"...Did you really forget already or has your brain not fully started up yet Auntie Al?"

"Aww, you know it takes about 3 cups of good 'ol Joe to get me going in the morning. You have no room to criticize! You're not any better though, your citizens run on Starbucks I've heard!... Let's see. Why are you here..." Then America froze. "That's right; all of you are here... and I forgot to email Mattie!"

Throwing the mug in the sink, she sprinted for the door where Japan and the others were coming in. "No! Run! MAKE A BREAK FOR IT! THERE BE DRAGONS HERE!"

Japan, blanching and being quite limber despite his age, leaped up in the air, grabbing one of the porch beams and pulling himself up, causing America to fly tackle poor England instead.

Irritated, England tried pushing her off him while he said, "Have you gone daft? Get off me!"

America ignored him and simply said instead "We gotta get out of here! They're here! They're all here!"

England froze and the gears in his head began to turn. They meant a plural group of people and from the context they had just arrived. Now narrowing the possibilities down, America didn't want to be around them when they were all together...That narrowed it down the both American continents.

"Are the South Americans visiting? Or is it Central America and Mexico?" England asked with a sigh.

America gave him an incredulous look. "Do you think they would come up this way in such weather, nope it's much worse! Instead it's..."

She was cut off when the door opened up again and a smirking Jean came into view, lighting a cigarette. "The Provinces have decided to pay a visit Angleterre! Manitoba is especially excited to be meet you all, he even went and brought his snow shovel for the occasion."

Both Germany and Russia got the sinking feeling that told them not much again would get done today.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am Matthewian project interpretation of provinces: http : / / ctcsherry . Deviantart . com / art / Provinces-and-their-Supervisor-160776840?q=gallery%3Aiammatthewianproject%2F24552670&qo=25 it was this interpretation, combined with my own experiences (Though Ontario's interpretation seems to be just for the GTA – Greater Toronto Area. D: ) Though this is limited to only East of Manitoba, though I really want to go out West sometime
> 
> Michigan – hockey loving, invisible, can fix a car like no ones business, wilds/nature lovers, loves apples, and has pet wolverine (state animal)
> 
> Pennsylvania- Large German-Prussian population, snack capital (home of Hershey's, Peeps,Mike & Ike's, etc) with similar love for animal (1st US zoo), loves hunting (gun racks and camouflage), no gun control, brutal sports fan, street hardened.
> 
> The song above came from my experience at a cousin's wedding, so much fun, though the song was kind of inappropriate it got everyone there on the dance floor (except the baby).


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't worry, after much deliberation, I've decided to keep the provinces and whatnot largely out of it, with that many OC's (which I usually don't like reading, never mind writing) it can get confusing
> 
> I OWN NOTHING! Except my lack of plot.

'Thank God the week was over,' Matt thought as she leaned back into the couch. She loved her children dearly, she did really, but the past seven days had been very stressful.

_Matthew woke up and already felt that this day was going against her._

_Why you may ask?_

_That was because she woke up to the sounds of furniture breaking and shouts._

_Maybe if she was very, very quiet, they would all go away._

_Then the door slammed open and a dishevelled Alfred stood there who then cried, "MATT! You gotta do something! Your provinces are out for blood!"_

_Matt cracked an eye at her alarm clock...it was only a little after 9:00. Far too early to be up and moving on a Saturday, especially as she had been up until three cleaning... "They're just teasing them, don't worry about it."_

_"MATTIEEE!" Alfred whined. "This is serious! New Brunswick has her axe, Manitoba's swinging around his shovel and Saskatchewan is channelling his Slavic background."_

_"Unless Nunavut is also up in arms then there's nothing to worry about. I'm going back to sleep."_

_"But she is! She's sitting there sharping her toggle harpoon."_

_Matt sat up quickly. She had made her brood promise yesterday not to seriously maim, injure or mentally scare the other nations yesterday and to let her sleep. Both promises broken, Canada was grumpy and out for blood._

_Throwing on a shirt, she quickly left her room and went to the living room._

_"I can think of thirteen very sorry individuals who are not going to be getting any pancakes for the week that they're staying."_

_Immediately any sounds of impending violence stopped and the kids all turned to her as one and said piteously, "But Mommmmmm!"_

_"No buts! I asked you two simple things and yet here we are. Someone would think you are only a few decades old by the way you were acting."_

_They all began to speak at once._

_"I actually am only a few decades old!" cried Nunavut plaintively, trying to reason._

_"But!" Nova Scotia shouted as Alberta groaned, "Aw c'mon."_

_"Please?" asked Saskatchewan, ever polite and Prince Edward Island and British Colombia shouted "NO FAIR!" at the same time._

_"What about Waffles?" asked Manitoba._

_"Or Crêpes?" Northwest Territories piped up._

_"French Toast?" New Brunswick added._

_"NO!" Matt answered irritably, already hating the day. "I asked you not to and you did it anyway. There are consequences to every action; you made your bed, sleep in it."_

_"You can't do this!" Ontario said plaintively while Québec muttered something about making his own._

_"I only hit Russia once for creating Alaska!" Yukon said, trying to barter. (Canada still wasn't sure where her grudge against the State came from.) "That doesn't warrant pancake denial!"_

_Newfoundland said, "But Labrador didn' do anything! He wants to know if he can still have pancakes!" "Woof!"_

_Matt just trudged out of the room, between Al and B.C. there had better be some coffee left or heads would roll._

It had been a long week as they finally managed to have the meeting on the Tuesday and the majority of nations choose to flee - after giving their word they would not speak of Al or Matt's secret until after the two themselves revealed it to the others of course. The exception to this lay with England and France who were made to stay by their "grandchildren" who wanted to get to "know" them better.

She just wanted things to get back to normal.

* * *

"Psst. Matt," came a voice from her office, a pale white mop of hair and red eyes peeking out. "C'mere!"

Correction, everyone but England, France and _Prussia_ had gone home. Curious, she made her way over before Gilbert gently grabbed her hand and pulled her into the office, closing the door behind her and locking it.

"Matthew, I need to talk to you."

Oh dear. He was using her full name and was ensuring they were talking in private. This was serious then.

"What is it Gil?" She asked curiously sitting on the couch while Gilbert grabbed the spare chair and wheeled it over, sitting on it backwards.

He opened his mouth and closed a few times before letting out a huff of air. "Gott verdammt. I know what I want to say but I don't know how to begin."

Considering how long they had known each other, Matt could guess why. "Is it embarrassing or are you worried about hurting my feelings?"

"Offending."

"Ah."

They sat in silence before Matt said, "Honestly Prussia. You've known me for what feels like forever, you should know that as long as you have a good reason for what you say, I won't be [very] offended." She tried to make eye contact with her best friend but as soon as she did, she regretted it. His eyes were a whirlwind of emotion, the most prevalent of which being hurt.

"That's the problem!" Gilbert moaned. "I've known you for a long time! Why didn't you tell me? Remember when we were both really drunk and made that blood oath proclaiming we were siblings way back in the 1800's? I never forgot it; I wanted it so badly to be the truth. I watched you get forgotten and stepped on by those you called family and wanted nothing more than to bring you into mine, to introduce you to my little Bruder as his other brother. To protect you. Now, I don't know quite what to think. I felt like I knew you, that you confided in me like I confided in you but, knowing you kept something so...big from me. It-It hurts, Canada. Why didn't you trust me?"

"G-Gilbert I..."

"No Matt. Please let me finish." Gilbert interrupted. "This feels exactly like when Hungary and Ol' Specs got together behind my back. They both knew how I felt and yet, instead of telling me, they went and got married and left me _behind._ To find out that you've been hiding this from me...it feels like my other little sibling is about to do the same."

Matt, after waiting to see if Prussia had finished, got up and picked up her big brother. Because that was what he was to her, even when he thought she was a boy, Gilbert had played the role of protective older brother perfectly.

Now it was her turn to protect him.

Settling them both on the couch, she hugged him close, running her fingers through his hair and whispering, "I would never do that, you hear me Prussia? Family is everything to me; it would be like ignoring Al! While we've had our differences, if you were in any trouble you would find me and my army on your doorstep within the hour to help...politics aside of course. I'd still have to convince my boss." She ended lightly, trying to cheer up Prussia before becoming serious again. "You're talking to the girl who fought two world wars in order to help her family in Europe, despite no violence being directed at her own lands. Gilbert, I may fight with you or maybe not talk to you for a while but regardless, you will always be important to me and welcome at my house at any time, alright? You are my brother-from-another-mother as some of Al's people would say; nothing you say or do will change that and I will not lightly forsake your company. Clear?" She took a deep breath as she finished her rant before she uncertainly murmured, "You...You're not still mad are you?"

Gilbert looked up from her embrace and muttered. "I was never really mad, just confused as to why you never told me."

Matt had the decency to look sheepish. "Um, in all honesty, I'm just so used to hiding it never occurred to me to tell you. When I was around you I never really remembered the entire Am-Female thing, I was just...me."

Gilbert shifted and looked at her incredulously. "Are you serious?"

"Yep...So do you forgive me?"

"...If you go to the kitchen and make me a sammich (and by sammich I mean pancakes) I'll consider it." Gilbert smirked before running away, cackling while Matt ran to catch up.

* * *

"Are you ready for this?" Alfred said with a smirk and a fist pump as she and Matt lounged in one of the spare rooms that surrounded the main conference hall.

"Nooooo," Matt groaned out as she buried her face in her hands. "No. I'm not."

Like she and Alfred had decided earlier, they were going to revealing their secret in front of the entire world during the monthly nations meeting.

And because America being who she was, they were doing this in the most dramatic fashion possible...Canada was already dying a little on the inside as visions of their impending (doom) future flashed before her eyes.

They had made a trip to the Edmonton Mall and France had proceeded to ensure that both she and Al were dressed stylishly while remaining professional and not over-the-top. Furthermore, by buying her a girls' Team Canada hockey jersey (that fit her as nicely as a sports jersey could) while they were there, France was back in her good graces.

In fact, the experience had been so much fun (dragging England on the roller coaster for example) that she was thinking that she might do it again in the future. Might.

However, now that they were here and they could actually hear their fellow nations talking, she was beginning to get a case of cold feet. She was dressed in a woman's suit  a single button jacket with button cuffs, blouse and a pair of sleek dress pants, flats and some stud earrings. Unlike her previous suits, it felt almost like she had to sewn herself into this one with how closely it followed her figure making her feel a little exposed. She was also very uncomfortable with that thought that she would be potentially bombarded with questions when she entered the room or worse...there was also the opposite possibility  that no one would notice her at all.

She was so not ready for this.

* * *

Al was ready for this.

She, the hero, was at last - _at last_  pulling a Tony Stark and revealing her secret identity. That's right bitches; _she_ was the hero, America. _She_ was the one who had saved their bacon in those wars. _She_ was the one who could best Russia at arm wrestling. _She_ was the strong one, the super power  and no sexist, stuck-in-the-medieval-ages nation could take that away from her now. _She_ would not be cooped up and she couldn't be happier.

She had never realized what kind of difference her own appearance could have on herself, having acted the stereotypical male for a very large portion of her life (though in the 1800's she had been a bit more fashionable) and putting minimal effort in. The right haircut, the right clothing and she felt she could take on the world (which she could anyway), how had she missed this? Unlike her sister who had straightened her hair and had her hair cut into layers, Al couldn't do much with the haircut she had sported so instead she had cut it a little shorter before using gel to spike it. She wore a figure cutting blouse and a pencil skirt with some patterned tights and knee-high boots, combined with silver dangling earrings she felt like a whole new person. Not like she wasn't Alfred kind of new but rather new because she could be the Alfred who didn't have to hide anymore.

It was exhilarating.

She wondered what kinds of faces they'd make.

Would Cuba flip? Would China? Austria? Netherlands? What would the Commonwealth think of her sister? How would her allies in the wars she'd fought react? Would the Nordics realize it was Mattie and her that they had found so long ago?

She couldn't wait, however they reacted, it was sure to be good.

* * *

A soft knock on the door and a quiet voice of one of the meeting attendants alerted the pair that the meeting was about to begin.

It was time.

As they emerged out into the hallway they could hear Germany half-hardheartedly call for order  he probably knew it wouldn't last long if achieved with their arrival  and the scrape of chairs as the other nations went to their places.

Matt and Al stood in front of the large double doors, clearly on edge for one reason or another. Reaching out with one hand, they laced their fingers together in comfort before their other hand reached out to grab a handle each of the door. However, they had barely opened them halfway when the doors flew out of their grasp with a Bang and a white and blue blur came barrelling forward...

"Can't catch me Jerk Engl-Mmph!"...right into them, specifically America's chest.

"Who are you? I'm the mighty Sealand desu-yo! Acknowledge me!"

As America stood there dazed, silence instantly descended upon the room as the table England was gripping had some of the wood break off with a deafening snap and caused many nations to wonder what on Earth had possessed their bosses to furnish this room with old suits of armour, cutlasses and the like... Others just wondered who the two at the door were and if they were perhaps available later in the evening.

"SEALAND!" Arthur growled out, his hand closing on an old crop and a purple aura beginning to surround him.

Pirate England was back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yep, this story shall be having plot! (*Falls down in shock) Or a little bit anyway.
> 
> I looked up woman's suits, while they look gorgeous, I wonder how the models get into them because of how tightly they fit. o-O


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sealand's insults are ones my little brother favoured way back. Some may say that Arthur is a bit extreme – I would argue pirates were harsh regardless of age, status or gender and, having lived through the period, when he slips into that mindset, some of his usual restraints aren't there.
> 
> Never written a few characters in here, hope they come across alright.

"SEALAND!" Arthur growled out, his hand closing on an old crop and a purple aura beginning to surround him.

Pirate England was back.

The leather cracked as it was hit against the table, a murderous aura seeming to pour out of England's being as he slowly made his way around the table.

"N'w tell me, why I might grant a wee brat such as ye the King's Pardon, sharply now!"

Peter, clearly unaware of this side of his founder's personality  the side that had quite a number of older nations on the retreat and that had mostly faded by Sealand's founding  just smiled cheekily from where he stood in front of a speechless America, clearly oblivious to what he had done. "What'cha gonna do Jerk?"

"No me bucko, it's not wha' _I'd_ do. It's more what the _Cat_ would do t'ye and yer britches, no quarter, unless ye happen t'apologize sharpish." His tone, despite the sudden drawl that accompanied it, was full of malice.

"A cat?" Sealand laughed. "You gonna borrow one from Greece? Oh I'm so scared you big smellyface!" (At this point Greece gathered Corporal Cat, the only one that had come to the meeting with him and hid him on his lap)

"Ye don have the Davies? Aw too bad, ye bilge rat! I would'a enjoyed that." Peter shivered as Arthur drew in front of him and as Arthur continued, he lifted the boy's chin to meet his furious eyes with the crop handle. "I'll ask ye again in plain terms. Shall I sail under a black flag and only take your video games or shall I raise the red and make you regret ever drawing breath? Apologize t' tha beauty* or I'll give you a taste o' the cap'n's daughter before keelhaul'n ye. "

Sealand gulped as he realized just what a black mood Arthur was in, America on the other hand, while annoyed her epic entrance had been ruined, was trying not to laugh as Arthur did his best to scare some manners into the boy (and remembering when he did the same for her and Mattie).

Peter, about to choose the lesser of the two options, stop antagonizing the smelly Jerk-face and apologize, suddenly was pushed backwards as a very angry Finland now stood between the annoyed Brit and him.

"United Kingdom! That is enough! There is no need to use such language or threats! He's just a child!" Finland had drawn one of the old Viking swords and was holding it by Arthur's throat.

"Belay that!" Arthur snapped irritably as he quickly drew a cutlass that he had grabbed at the same time as the crop and struck the opposing blade down. "The bilge rat needs t' learn respect! He just planted his face into a lady's chest and doesn't even apologize! It's n't as if I be threatening the runt with an old hempen jig or some such. Even a brat ought to have more manners then that!"

Finland, however, countered the parry and swiped forward as England blocked. "Leave. Him. Alone. "

"Or what?" Arthur sneered back.

"Or this!"

The room erupted as nations began taking bets as the two began to fence seriously, others tried to leave and others still tried to intervene. Soon the Nordics, Spain and quite a number of Middle Eastern Nations had banded together against England who was quickly backed up by the Commonwealth.

It really was a mystery as to whose dumb idea it was to furnish this room with old weapons.

Canada and America just stood in the doorway, watching as the chaos unfolded.

Al began to laugh, "Well sis, that wasn't quite what I expected to happen (considerably less heroic) but I don't know why I expected any better."

"No kidding. I worried over this?" Just then a table smashed by the open door and a retreating Italy passed by them, darted back, grabbed their hands before pulling them to the cafeteria, Germany's calls for order ringing in their ears.

* * *

Prussia cracked his neck experimentally as he made his way over to the cafeteria line up. When the fighting had broken out, he'd sided with England and had ended up fighting an axe wielding Denmark. While he had completely and obviously defeated the Dane, getting whacked in the neck by the tail end of the axe's shaft had hurt.

So now, in addition to having a sore neck, he also had to buy his lunch having forgotten to pack one earlier. So after grabbing two slices of pizza, he made his way to the cash, only to discover his wallet was not in his pocket. In fact, he recalled, he had left it beside his lunch so he wouldn't forget it.

Oh the irony.

What a lousy day, maybe Mathias and Arthur would be up for drinks after the meeting as he sure as hell was.

About to turn around and put the slices back or try and work out an agreement with one of the workers (like charging West or letting him have an IOU), a very familiar tenor voice pipped up behind him.

"Here. Let me get that for you. Miss, would you mind adding my order on his?" Austria of all people was behind him and _nonchalantly_ opening his wallet to pay for his, Prussia's, food.

The world was ending. The miser actually paying more then necessary? For an old enemy? Something was afoot. Was he trying to lure him into a false sense of security? What for? Austria was horrible at pranks, which meant Hungary was involved...

So while Prussia thanked him, his eyes wearily followed the Austrian as he made his way to a table. What was ol' Specs up to?

As he sat with his exhausted bruder, Italy, America, Canada and England (who was seeming to dare anyone to approach the table), he kept an eye to the side where Hungary and Austria were sitting, their heads close together before he took a bite of the pizza.

Bleh. Italy was right, the pizza here did taste like shit.

* * *

After managing to herd all the Nations back into the small room that was used for their meetings, Germany opened the floor to Matthew and Alfred who were more then a little intimidated as more then 200 eyes followed their every move.

In that moment the room was completely quiet as they walked up to podium. In that moment, both of their hands instinctively reached out for the other's to reassure them that they were still there, just as they had when they were little and in trouble.

"So...uh." Al cleared her throat, for once unsure of what to say, Canada on the other hand was staring at the mike as though it could jump out and bite her. "How are you guys?"

When there was no answer (some nations looking at her as though she'd lost her mind), she continued. "I bet you're wondering why we're here or even who we are Well... we're here to be the representative of our nation just like you are, and before any of you say anything, no we're not a new nation. We've been in attendance here for a while...just not like, well, this." She finished kind of lamely, suddenly uncomfortable.

Sensing America's indecision, Canada drew on her own courage and began to speak into the microphone as well. "What she means to say is that you know us, it's just, uh, we've been hiding our gender since you've all known us so you don't need to worry about the complications a new nation brings about. We were just scared about how we would be treated if we were viewed as female so we hid..."

America noticing Canada's rising discomfort at being the centre of attention, took over once more. "So this is kind of like a first meeting for us again. So, um," Here she paused before straightening and looking around the room. "Hello, my name is America or Alfred and my sister here is Canada or Matthew, I hope we'll continue to get along as we have."

There was a moment of stunned silence before the room erupted.

"WHAT!" Was the most common word by those who got over their shock first before fierce whispering broke out between the different seats.

The other female nations just appeared smug as the other nations began to realize the implications of what was said. With the two of them, they had shown that the female nations were just as capable as the boys in fighting and managing themselves, that they didn't need the constant support of another.

Netherlands chocked out. "You were a girl and you fought in the hell of the Scheldt?"

China just looked speechless while Cuba didn't seem to care (neither did most of the African nations) that America was actually a girl and was instead glaring at her as he normally did. Egypt and Greece looked fairly fine with it, possibly because their moms had been very powerful and respected and possibly because it was difficult to tell with them, though the same could said for Hong Kong. Turkey just put his head down on the table, muttering about how it was to early for this shit, Romania looked somewhat bored while Austria was nodding, supposedly Hungary had told him earlier. Latvia looked like he may faint (though that might have more to do with his proximity to Russia), Estonia was fretting over him while Lithuania appeared to having a borderline mental breakdown as he realized that the nation he had worked for for a decade or so wasn't quite the nation he thought he was working for. Mexico looked annoyed at not being informed while most of Central America and South America were just amused by the entire thing. Australia and New Zealand, being the closest to the podium were able to closely examine the two before Steven jokingly shouted "Where have you been hiding those?"

It was Denmark's shout that got everyone to quiet down. "So it was you we found way back then! Man you've both...grown."

Norway, Finland, Sweden and Iceland all looked surprised that Denmark had made the connection before examining the two standing up there again.

Needless to say, not much was accomplished at this meeting either as there were too many questions to be answered and everyone kept staring at the two (likely trying to figure out how they missed that) even as Germany and a few of the other serious nations attempted to go over the day's agenda.

* * *

During the last 15 minute break, Al approached Matt with an idea. "Hey broski! Last break I went for a bit of a walk and I discovered that there's a place around the corner that's Karaoke bar! Want to go after the meeting? We could invite some of the others too!"

Matt smiled and answered. "Sure Al but I hope you know I won't be singing any, not without quite a bit of alcohol anyway. Who do you have in mind?"

"Well Francey-pants, Artie, the Commie and Yao, the Ita-bros, Toni, my Awesome bros, Elie, Keeks and anyone else who wants to come!

"So France, England, Russia, China, South and North Italy, Spain, Denmark, Prussia, Hungary, Japan... you realize that that is a sure fire way to never be allowed back into that establishment. Everyone will want to come, if only to laugh at those that are drunk."

"...Sure, but that's half the fun!"

"Alright Al, but let's call ahead to reserve a room big enough for most of us...and enough alcohol."

"Aw, fine. Ruin my fun. You know I love seeing their expressions when they see how many of us come and how many empty bottles there are!"

* * *

This was how this poor innocent establishment fell victim to the insanity that seemed to follow the Nations around. Luckily, only about 40 different nations of the 250 or so that were present for the meeting were able to attend as many had flights that night or early in the morning.

Each had gone back to the hotel and changed into casual clothing and made sure they had enough for the taxi ride back before heading over an hour after the meeting ended.

As the night began, each nation filtered in. Those that Alfred had mentioned earlier were all able to attend as was South Korea, Australia, New Zealand, Taiwan, Hong Kong, Greece, Turkey, Vietnam, Belgium, Netherlands, Ukraine, Ireland, Scotland, Wales, Northern Ireland and more.

They went over the most popular songs to start, with the European nations nearly breaking out into a Eurovision contest before the Oceanic nations took over the microphone for a while. However, as the night wore on, many nations began becoming increasingly reminiscent and older music such Glen Miller, Carrie Jacobs-Bond, Harold Arlen, Duke Ellington, Doris Day and Frank Sinatra could be heard gracing the hall.

However, as the older nations began going into ballad territory and the machine began not even having any of the songs being requested on their, Al decided to step in.

Though, not everyone was a fan of recent American pop music.

"C'mon America! Why don't you sing some real music!" Shouted a nameless voice from the back.

Al in turn paused in her rendition of Kesha's We R who We R, before an idea hit her and she stopped the song. Turning, she gestured for Matt to join her on the stage with a crooked finger.

"Sure, why not! How many of you know of Iirngaaq? Cause you see, Mattie and I have won soooo many competitions in it."

There were whispers as many of those present hadn't, though Russia leaned forward with a happy (and surprisingly non-eerie) smile.

Matt, when she heard what her sister had planned began to shake her head and stutter out refusals before Al whispered something in her ear and pulled her up stage.

After some rapid whispered discussion between the two, Matt appeared to agree so they raised the microphone stand before Al turned with a smirk and said "Our Northern people came up with this style of singing as a game that women would play to pass the time, it's sort of like early techno. See if you like this any better~"

And so, the twins  for now they truly looked it as the dim light hid the differences in their faces and hair and they had both chosen to wear jeans and a white tshirt with undone red button up  stood in front of each other, chest to chest and held onto each other's arms. The then brought their faces very close before Matt started to begin to sing a short rhythm and began to sway with Al. Then Al joined in and as they alternated between faster and slower rhythms and sounds, they pressed closer and closer together so that their lips were nearly brushing.

"Holy. Shit." Denmark hissed out before Norway whacked him upside the head. "Aw...Min skat! I'm just being appreciative, no need to hit."

Nearly all the male nations within hearing range nodded, their eyes wide. Whether or not they liked the music, to see girls singing like that... France approved.

Then it was over as Matt broke into breathless laughter and surrendered.

The night continued, but that little display had caught the attention of many, and two in the room were suddenly finding themselves having to come to terms with feelings they didn't know they had.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> King's Pardon – A Royal Act pardoning any pirate of past wrong doing should he promise to stop  
> The Cat – The Cat o' Nine Tails, a flogging weapon with nine knotted ropes attached to a wooden handle. Really painful and common punishment tool on navy ships  
> have the Davies/the Jonesey's - to be frightened, allusion to Davy Jones – is a threat  
> To sail under red flag – Black flag = mercy, Red = no mercy, death to all aboard their target  
> Belay that – stop that  
> Dance the hempen jig– you know: a short drop and a sudden stop, a euphemism for hanging  
> From the Sea – response to question where from, owe allegiance to no one but themselves  
> Min Skat - (Dan- My love)
> 
> *Beauty was the politest bit of slang I could find from the period that a pirate may also use. (the others being things like slag and wench)...don't read too much into it. Or should you? *waggling eyebrows*
> 
> The stuff that Al and Matt are doing at the Kareoke is called Throat singing in English - the native names are Iirngaaq in some areas of Nunavut and Nipaquhiit in others, Katadjak in South Baffin/Nunavik, Pirkusirtuk in Igloolik/Baffin Island and Qiarvaaqtuq in Arviat – and this style unique to the Inuit in that it is usually performed by women and as a sort of competition. The only other areas in the world with (that I'm aware of) are Mongolia, Tibet and Tuva (federal district of Russia) It is just as described above, the one singer starts a short rhythmic pattern while the other singer fills in any gaps with another pattern. There are sounds made on both the inhale and exhale and the first one to run out of breath or loose pace, loses the game. This is often also accompanied by shuffling dances and though this is less common now, at one point, their faces were so close that their lips could brush as they used their opponents mouth as a resonator. Its really cool stuff!
> 
> Short Clip: http: / / www .youtube .com /watch?v=XnPh3GGykaI  
> Also interesting: http : / / www. youtube .com /watch?v=_x86SiUS7oA
> 
> Other cultural stuff if any of you are interested, here's a clip from the 2008 Arctic Winter Games in Yellowknife which has a bunch of other cultural/sports found among native Northern cultures. http: / / www .youtube .com / watch?v=HZT1SSR3xt4


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This also may disjointed as I wrote the parts all out of order and in the time since I last posted so if anything isn't clear or doesn't make sense it's because I'm an idiot.
> 
> Hopefully you all like it anyway.
> 
> I do not own Hetalia.

With the World meeting over and done with, it was now time for the party. The nations converged on the Italian Brothers House for Carnevale, bringing with them centuries worth of old disguises and masks to wear and to lend out to the nations who hadn't been involved enough in Europe to have their own.

America and Canada both, due to them trying to hide their secret, had never participated in the Carnival (because you never know what can happen with drunken idiots nearby) and, needless to say, they were pretty excited about the entire thing.

The nations would usually mingle with the local populace before moving into Romano's villa for a more private gathering. For the nation's party there was always a theme and this year it was to dress as an animal. Canada had already seen France strut about in his peacock costume, Spain in his dog costume and Prussia in his tiger costume not far behind him. Not wanting to end up looking ridiculous or under dressed, Canada had approached Romano after one of the meetings  being on good terms with the hot-headed Italian, having bonded during the "play-dates" they had had as colonies of the Bad Touch Trio  and he had helped them pick out costumes, leaving only the masks to them.

In their hotel room, Canada admired the masses below as the party began in the streets, appearing as a colourful mosaic from above while America adjusted her mask. They were going as a lion and wolf respectively, their costumes covered in sequins and rich patterns making them appear both sophisticated and untamed at the same time once coupled with their masks. The masks were made by America and Canada themselves, drawing on the skills from carving and making Hamatsa, Yup'ik, Tsonokwa, Thunderbird, Cedar and False Face masks of their first inhabitants and had been brightly painted and lovingly carved. America's mane was made of braided scrap cloth and attached to the cedar mask, the mask itself was painted with bright reds, oranges and yellows and even had shiny, white teeth carved at the mouth. Canada's mask was the direct opposite painted in blues, silver, black and purples though the mouth of her mask also displayed fierce white teeth. Beyond that, they dressed the same, though keeping to their own colour scheme  tight pants, combat boots, gloves and a long sleeved shirt painted to match their masks. All that was left was to put on the fake tail and makeup (on the eyes and lips, the only features that could be seen when the mask was on).

Coming of the balcony and closing the door, Canada made her way over to where her own mask lay. What would the party be like? Would she fit in? Or would she once more fade into the background? Al was forever telling her that by worrying like this, she was making a self-fulfilling prophecy but she couldn't help it. Thankfully, she was jolted out of her increasing negative thoughts by a knock at the door.

Considering America was still in the bathroom, she lay the mask back down on the bed and went to answer it. Surprisingly at the door was a very nervous looking Lithuania.

"Excuse me Miss Canada, but is Miss America here?" Toris said after a moment, clearing his throat.

Upon hearing her friend's voice, Al opened the bathroom door and popped her head out. "Hey Tori! What's up bro?"

"I need to talk to you..." He began.

Canada, sensing this would need to be a private conversation, went into the bathroom to begin applying her own makeup while Toris and Al went to go speak in the privacy of their room.

* * *

Hours later, America was mad that she and Matt hadn't done this earlier.

The night was a whirl of colour, parades, shows and more  with some drinking in between of course. She, Canada and Lithuania had wandered the streets until their feet were sore and their sides hurt from laughing too much. It was all in all a beautiful night.

After she and Lithuania had finished speaking, Al had announced to Matt that she hoped her sister didn't mind him accompanying them for the evening. Deciding against prying, she had done her best to be welcoming to the man... not that he really needed that reassurance. After all, Al hadn't left him alone the entire night, dragging him everywhere by his hand and getting him to explain the nuances of the festival. There was just so much to take in, people had on gorgeous and ancient looking costumes and masks, around every corner there seemed to be a busker or a show and the streets were filled with drinking, dancing and singing. It seemed very surreal, especially once the sun had set.

Sitting down for a bit of a rest, Matthew volunteered to go get them all some gelato and left the two of them on the bench as she quickly vanished into the crowd.

America leaned back into the bench with a sigh of delight, it felt good to be off her feet, and just watch the crowd go by.

There went Seychelles, dressed as a swordfish (complete with rapier) with Monaco who was a leopard, Vietnam as a tiger and Cameroon who was also in a lion costume. Al quickly waved them over to talk as while she may not have known them as well as her sister (the four other nations also having controlled by France at some point in their history), she was always happy to talk. Especially as Cameroon was also a lion! Awesome!

Promptly inspecting his costume, they fell into a discussion on how both of them had made the mane  Cameroon having painstakingly woven long pieces of yarn around the edges of his mask whereas America had braided scrap cloth and glued them to the edges.

Waving them goodbye, they continued to wait for Mattie's return but Al felt her mask begin to slip. Turning, she asked Lithuania to do it back up for her and leaning forward, he reached his arms around and did. Seconds later, Canada returned and was about to hand them each their gelato when a man with a badger mask on popped up.

"So this is where you've been!" Ah, it was England.

"Hello to you too Arthur!" Al chirped back.

"Good to see you Canada. I was hoping you would be able to come by house for Easter this year, if you didn't have any other plans. Make it a right bash, Steven and Jackson already said they could come and some of the other Commonwealth said they'd think about it but I think Aadya and Koaru at least will come."

"Australia, New Zealand, India and Hong Kong? Can I come too?" America asked.

But he ignored her.

Why did he always ignore her?

As he trapped Canada in a conversation, her sister sending her trapped and apologetic looks every few seconds, she decided to step in. Grabbing both Lithuania and Canada's hands, she quickly said. "Sorry Limey Bastard!" He _had_ hurt her feelings first after all. "Excuse us but we were having some fun before you arrived!"

After finishing their gelato, America then waved them both a quick goodbye before claiming she'd forgotten something in the hotel. As soon as she was out of their line of vision, she instead made a beeline to the nearest bar.

It was there she ran into Spain. After a little coaxing and alcohol, she explained.

England had ignored her.

Did he have _any_ idea what that felt like?

Why did he always ignore her when she had done something to upset him? And nearly every time, she had no idea what she had done!

America hated being ignored in general, it was one of the only kinds of bullying that was difficult to retaliate to; but then add England into the equation and _bam!_ Instant heartbreak, right there. Having the man who had raised her, been her esteemed rival, her cherished ally then her secret crush ignore her existence completely...

To have your love ignore you was something Spain could relate to after all and after a moment's reflection, he turned to her, a shadow of the old conquistador smile in his grin.

"We need a fan."

"What?" America paused.

"To get you your man, we need a fan."

"And how will that help?"

"The idiot's Victorian Era was all about unspoken communication, one of the languages involved a fan. He won't be so oblivious to miss that!"

"Really?"

"Positive!" Spain beamed before saying "We could use Japan's help, he's using fans as fins for his koi costume, he'd be able to lend one to us." Spain said, a devious smirk crossing his face.

Together they vanished into the crowd to track down a certain oriental nation.

_A few minutes later_

It was now time for the nations to go meet at the rented out vila for their own private party and America was beginning to feel nervous.

"...Are you sure this will work?" Al asked, sceptical.

Spain just smiled innocently and responded: "Of course it will. You forget, yonder stuffy, fuzzy, eyebrowed man was the one who invented this system. Perhaps being blunt hasn't worked, but I'm sure speaking a "language" he understands and created will."

Japan asked as he handed her a fan. "So you remember everything?"

"I think so." America said brightly, though she still looked uncertain before she recited. "Fan fast is I'm single, fanning with my right hand is to encourage him to approach me, fan open and shut is kiss me and when the fan is open wide it means love. I need to avoid fanning slow which is means taken or with my left which is to tell him to go away and if I snap it shut it means hate and I also gotta be careful that it isn't half open because then I'm totally friend-zoning him which is bad ...Can this really all be communicated by a fan? Because if you're messing with me, so help me I'll..."

"You can." Spain said happily, "Every now and again I use it to fluster my Lovi~"

Wishing her good luck once more, Spain and Japan left, blending in with the crowds.

America stood there for a moment before sighing and pocketing the fan in the purse. As she too then began to make her way through the crowd, Al spotted a small sign to the side. If the fan didn't work then perhaps that would...

It was a lovely watch, Al looked down on it, pleased. Long ago, she had heard through the grapevine (aka Canada) that the Prince of Wales at the time, Albert Edward, had given Princess Alexandra of Denmark, in true Victorian fashion, a 'gypsy ring' when courting her. The precious stones in it  Beryl, Emerald, Ruby, Turquoise, Iacynth and Emerald  spelt out his nickname "Bertie" so that every time she looked at it, she would think of him. Al knowing Arthur for the romantic he was (after all he was the one who had told Mattie), the watch had the stones Almandite, Ruby, Topaz, Hiddenite, Uvarovite and Rhodolite.

It was lucky the jeweller had been open so late and worked so quickly, she was only thirty minutes late! Even better, she now had a back up plan in case Arthur missed her flirting with the fan.

* * *

This was a bad idea. Why was nothing working?

He had refused her invitation to dance. She had tried to sit with him but he got up. He was ignoring her completely really. What had gotten him so mad ( _or jealous? Whispered a small part of her mind_ )

Then she had taken up Spain's idea..

England had brushed off her fan-language completely, only asking if she was feeling hot considering how long and quick she had been fanning herself and then with her negative answer, had commented that she looked ridiculous and to stop so others won't worry needlessly.

A few glasses of liquid courage later and a bit of a pep talk from Veneziano (who had no idea what was wrong but his words still helped), she had gone up to him and handed him the watch, wrapped all nice.

He had then looked down at the present. Back to her. The present. Her. Present. Her. He then dryly said "What's the occasion? It's not my birthday nor is it a holiday."

Shit.

This brings us to the present.

_Think fast Al. C'mon, this was no harder then that time in Normandy or that time when the MacDonald's was closed or when she and Matt had royally screwed up on Valentine's Day... Think!_

"I'm not falling for that trick another time."

Out of time.

"What do you mean? I wasn't trying to trick you!"

"Of _course_ you were not America." Britain said, fake smile plastered across his face. "Just like France hadn't intended to give me a spring loaded cream pie for my birthday and Sealand didn't mean to give me a boxing glove to the face for Christmas. Contrary to popular opinion, I am not a fool."

"But!" She tried to protest.

"Go away America." He dismissed her.

"Actually," she said really quietly, slowly taking off the wrapping and opening the container. "I know you disliked the present I got you at Christmas and you were right, I didn't think and just gave you something I would enjoy. It bothered me and I've been looking for something to replace it ever since. I hope you like the watch, I noticed your old one broke."

Leaving the box open, she then turned her back on an astonished England and disappeared into the dance floor, making her way across the room. Maybe she would try again in a few years but her hopes and feelings had been crushed enough for the night _thankyouverymuch_ and now excuse her as there was some scotch calling by the bar.

* * *

Spain watched her go, eyes sad, he had thought for sure his suggestion would work, England was forever clinging to his traditions after all. What could he do to help the poor dejected America? It wasn't like him to ignore someone in distress after all...He zoned out for a moment, only to be brought back when a fist hit his head. _Owwwwww. Why would someone do that?_

"Oi! Tomato bastard! Don't think too hard you may loose the few brain cells you have left!"

"Lovi~" Spain cried happily, though he looked sad a moment later. "Can't you call me anything else? Like boss when you were little or..."

He was cut off by a beet-red Romano. "Cut that out Stupid Spagna."

Antonio sighed, though at least it was an improvement, a miniscule one, but still an improvement. He counted his victories where he could really.

Then a though occurred to him. a spark lighting in his eyes.

"Ro-Ma-No." He whispered, letting each syllable roll off his tongue. "I have an idea. One that, if it works, will cause America to owe us a favour and to annoy England. What do you say?"

The Southern half of Italy appeared to think for a moment before his face split into a wide grin and said "Si."

Antonio chuckled. "It is well known that Italians know how to charm any _bella donna_ , no?"

"Of course" Romano said with a hint of pride.

"Well, here's what we're going to do..."

* * *

England felt bad.

After double-checking for booby traps  it wouldn't be the first time by a long shot that someone had attempted to use a guilt trip to trick him  he was astonished to find out that that was all the gift was. A watch. A lovely watch that fit his wrist perfectly.

He allowed the lad  lass he corrected himself  an apology.

After doing the clasp up of his new watch on his wrist and finishing his flute of champagne, he excused himself from the table and made his way over to where he had last seen America disappear.

After a few moments of searching, he at last found her at the bar and was just about to cross the floor to where she was.

However, then Spain and Romano appeared beside her, both with flirtatious smiles on. _Just what were they...?_ Then he felt his heart stop as Romano gave a low bow and kissed the back of her hand. _Were they...?_ Spain then caught the bartender's attention, signalling for three of something before sitting down beside her, hand lightly resting on her thigh. _They were! **The HELL THEY WERE!**_

England began stomping over, his mind working into overdrive.

Everyone knew that Spain had at last gotten Romano to agree to go on a date with him and that they had been together ever since. So why were they approaching Al in such a way? In fact, why were they both approaching Al in such a way? Was it a threesome? There was no way... _But what if it was?_

Then before his mind could catch up with his actions he was beside her, grabbing her hand and pulling her away crying out. "THERE IS NO WAY YOU CAN CORRUPT HER FOR A THREESOME YOU BASTARDS!"

"Arthur. Let. Go. Of. Me." Said a very annoyed voice.

Ignoring her, he continued dragging her away to a nearby table before obeying.

"What the ruddy hell is running through your mind? Romano and Spain? My dear girl, you could do so much better."

"They were just comforting me after you were an ass. Remember?"

"But he kissed your hand!"

"He said he's show me how a true gentleman treated a lady.

Sensing he was loosing the argument, he changed tactics. "What about Lithuania?"

Shocked into silence for a moment, she then rallied. "Nothing is between us! He came to me as a friend!"

***Earlier***

_"Excuse me Ms Canada, but is Ms America here?" Toris said after a moment, clearing his throat._

_Upon hearing her friend's voice, Al opened the bathroom door and popped her head out. "Hey Tori! What's up bro?"_

_"I need a favour..." He began._

_Canada, sensing this would need to be a private conversation, went into the bathroom to begin applying her own makeup while Toris and Al went to go speak in the privacy of their room._

_"So how's it hanging?"_

_Toris smiled lightly. "I'm alright America. I'm here to ask a favour. You know the relationship between Russia and Belarus and that he and China are dating, right?" When Al nodded her confirmation, he continued. "Well, Ms Natalia's in quite the rage having just found about about the two of them and is insisting Mr Ivan accompany her to the Carnival. Ivan doesn't want to do this and knowing about my crush on Ms Natalia, he's trying to.. how you say, "foist her off" on me. While I would normally jump at the chance to do so, I like my fingers how they are. However, because of my present government, I cannot go directly against Mr Ivan so I need a good reason and you are the only one willing to go directly against him so what I mean to ask America is if you will please go to Carnevale with me?"_

_Poor Lithuania, America thought before quickly agreeing. "I'd be happy to help! Me n' Mattie are gonna be leaving here in about ten, are you ready to go or do you need to go back to your room for a moment?"_

_Lithuania smiled in relief before answering, "Thank you so much Ms America! I left my mask and ticket back at my room, I will meet you at your door in a few minutes then. Thank you again!"_

***End Flashback***

"We went as friends. Nothing more, nothing less." America said quietly as she finished explaining, snagging a mug of beer from a passing tray as she did so, taking a swig.

"Bullshit." Arthur snarled. "I saw you kiss!"

 _"I was wearing a full face mask Arthur!"_ She snapped, starting to lose her patience with his paranoia. "How do you propose he did that? He was actually fixing the tie in the back for me because it was starting to loosen. Besides, he likes Natalia and I wouldn't have kissed him anyway because...I like you. Nobody else really captures my interest like you do." Al said bluntly over her mug of beer to a brooding Arthur, clearly more then a little tipsy, but still not quite yet drunk. " So why won't you stop treating me like a knee-high bleater already? I'm no longer your colony and your little 'brother', but your equal and your ally...Hell, I'm taller then you, notta kid 'nymore Artie."

"...Wot?" Arthur responded drawing on his vast vocabulary, shocked out of his glowering for a moment.

America stared at him incredulous and let the silence stretch out.

 _"How much less subtle do I need to be!"_ America cried out at last, clearly frustrated. "I've invited you to dinner, movies, lunch, on walks, to plays, to festivals, to historical re-enactments! I've gotten you tea, those spy movies you claim to hate but actually love and little fantasy figurines! I even used your weird old Victorian way of flirting after the more modern approach didn't work! The fanning! And the watch! Almandite, Ruby, Topaz, Hiddenite, Uvarovite and Rhodolite! A-R-T-H-U-R you idiot! And you call _me_ oblivious! Read the atmosphere you obnoxious limey! What more do I have to do to get it through your thick skull Arthur Pendragon Kirkland that I  like - _like_  you!... God damn it!"

With that she stood, took a last swig of her beer before slamming her mug down on the table, breaking the table and shattering the glass. America, however, didn't appear to notice and left, slamming the door behind her.

Arthur stared at the space Al had just vacated then over at the door barely hanging onto it's hinges, back to his beer then up again, the room silent and staring at him.

"Hell." He said at last, placing some money on the table and tearing off after his former charge.

* * *

 _Well, wasn't the obnoxious tommie lucky?_ Prussia mused as the room began to talk again, likely about the old and present superpowers hooking up. _It appeared his love wasn't as unrequited as he thought._

"Prussia? Do you have a moment?" Hungary asked, walking up to the man by the punch bowl.

"No. Not for you anyway." Prussia lightly answered, throwing his paper cup into the nearby recycle bin before turning to walk away.

"Please?" She said, grabbing onto his sleeve. "I need to talk to you."

Gilbert looked at her eyes for a moment before sighing and allowed himself to be tugged out of the room. "Fine... but it had better be important."

Damn. Even after all these years, after all the secrets and betrayals, he still couldn't say no to her when she asked nicely. Not after being badly beaten by her as a child, not after not after being led around by them both, not being stabbed in the back by him and not even being used as a scapegoat for _both_ World Wars that the two played large role in had caused him to be able to refuse her completely. He must be a masochist. There could be no other conclusion as after all this time his heart would've, _should've_ , learned. Learned and accepted that Hungary and Austria were bad for him.

This was not healthy.

Not healthy for Ludwig who did his best to act as a shrink in order to help him pick up the shattered pieces of his heart, helping him to get back on his feet and stand strong just to watch him (the older one, the one who had raised him!) break all over again.   
Not healthy for Antonio and Francis who would try to comfort him as he would spiral once more into depression and trying to hide the guilt as he unintentionally reminded them of the role they too had played in his fall, in the breaking of his trust (though they had at least apologized).   
Not healthy to Arthur who would take him drinking when Antonio and Francis refused, knowing of the temporary comfort the drink brought, soothing the pain of rejection that affected them centuries after and of the agony of going from an empire to little more then a nation (or part of one in Gilbert's case).   
Not healthy for Matthew and Alfred who would take him in when it got too much to even be in Europe, feeding him, listening to him, healing him, hiding him in the places that still bore his name until he could once again face familiar faces and letting them pay the debt they felt they owed the other for what happened to him.   
Not healthy for Vash and Lili who would kindly not shoot him when he was drunk out of his mind and on their doorstep, Gilbert dredging up memories for the two of Austria best left in the past.   
Certainly not healthy for him mentally or physically, the stress from being toyed with making him ill, depressed and neurotic and causing his friends and family to feel guilt and sadness, pity even, for him which just made him feel all the worse.

The door closed behind them, the slight clicking of the lock instantly putting Prussia on the edge.

"What do you want?" He snapped, feeling the paranoia begin to set in.

"Gilbert..." She began but was cut off.

"No. Neither you nor the Priss have the right to use that name. You haven't since you left me behind, sneaking behind my back to marry the _arsch._ Not since we fought on the battlefield, you both turning your backs on me. Not since you left with no explanations. Not since you used me for a scapegoat for your own mistakes. You _used_ me in every _single_ sense of the world!" He huffed, finally turning his anger on one of the two sources of his ancient pain. "You used my love for you both to trick me, to pretend that you felt the same all the while having a good laugh! You used my nativity to marry him and leave me behind. You used my trust of you as "Elizabeta" and "Roderich" to stab me in the back! You used my stupidity to get me to replace _him_ when he was on the other side of the fucking Curtain! I am Prussia to you, nothing else, even if that is no longer my title partly because _of you both_!"

A new voice came from behind, Prussia whirling to see Roderich sitting in a chair to the side. "That is not entirely true or fair Gilbert."

"Really? If anything I think I'm being too lenient."

Elizabeta spoke up, her voice trembling with an unidentifiable emotion. "Do not say such things, we did love you! We still do! We never tricked you. Our bosses insisted we marry and you ran off before we could explain. We turned our backs on you because we couldn't bare to see what had become of you because of our actions." She took a deep breath before continuing. "The wars fought between us were fought because of our humans, not because of our feelings and had we not made it look like we had killed you, our boss was going to torture you, hurt you in the most painful ways." Hungary looked him in the eyes, eyes swimming with tears. "After the wall fell, we wanted to give you time to heal both mentally and physically before we asked you anything... And while behind it - I never replaced you with him! Or him with you! You are both important to me and while the circumstances were not ideal, I couldn't help but jump at the chance to be with you again. Selfish, yes. Cruel? Never intentionally. Not to you, _never_ to you. Gilbert, _please_."

Gilbert just shook his head, Elizabeta's face visibly crumbling with each movement, before he said in a detached voice. "What do you want?"

Austria got up and placed a hand on his shoulder. "We want to start over. While we cannot undo what happened in the past and it would appear that we cannot make it better, we would still like to try. We both missed you Gilbert, we've been spending the past few decades trying to find a way to make it up to you and to approach you..."

Prussia shook his hand off. "I don't need your pity and I certainly don't want to be used to _spice up_ your relationship. If you want a threesome, ask someone else, I'm _not_ interested."

" _That isn't what we want you idiot._ "Hungary hissed, exasperated. "We want _you._ We're hoping that we haven't screwed up too badly and that you still want us! We've talked to those closest to you, we've spoken to Ludwig, we've talked to Francis, Antonio, Arthur, Matt, Al, hell we even approached Vash and Lili! Besides a lot of bruises, trade agreement bribes, restrictions and rules along with promises of maiming and of nuclear war should we hurt you more; we know how badly we hurt you! We want to try to make up for the past, NOT asking you to hop in bed with us!"

Austria took over before Hungary's anger could push Prussia even farther away. "We would like you to go out with us next Friday. Dinner at a nice restaurant before going to the Concert Hall  the symphony is presently showcasing all 4 symphonies of Frederick the Great. We know we hurt you, you hurt us too. Regardless, we want to try at least being friends again first. No matter how much I wish it, we can't go back to how things were; I know this, you know this. Like I said earlier, we would like to start over."

"Please?" They both said.

Prussia looked between the two. After the centuries, he could read them like an open book and it appeared they were both telling the truth. Why could he never refuse them?

"...Alright, but Specs, you're paying you cheapskate and I'm going to order the most expensive on the menu." Once more, he would trust them just once more with his heart.

 _He must be a masochist._ He thought all the while ignoring the little voice that added. _Or just hopelessly in love._

He grabbed their outstretched hands.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Both pairings in this chapter have so much bad and good history between them that I couldn't help but try and work it in – trust issues, insecurities and whatnot. I hope it came across as believable.
> 
> Sorry about the Prussia/Austria/Hungary threesome, I just couldn't write it any other way considering the history between those three nations and also how they are portrayed in the series. However, considering this, that I think any relationship they could've had would have gone bad because of politics, I decided to write the beginnings of their relationship healing and trying again, just as people. I hope this came across alright :D
> 
> USUK, I hope I did them justice. I read some fics to get a better feel and dynamics for the pair and was creeped out by the amount of fics that make England either a rapist/rape victim (which is also frequently trivialized in a way that disturbs me) or... the best description I can think of is a crying, weak, slutty, extremely submissive person with absolutely no emotional depth that cannot do anything on his own. No one seemed to try to round him out as a character and as a human being not a disturbingly passive, whimpering, emotionally stunted alternative to the big, strong America (who didn't get rounded out either) – and looking at the fandom this is becoming increasingly common in any pairing, England in particular being written that way – just why this extreme uke/seme business? It was partly because of this pairing that this chapter took so long. However, I was kindly pointed in the direction of a number of excellent fics which have made me fond of the pair. (Sorry for the rant but just WTH?)
> 
> Miss= Unmarried, Mrs= Married, Ms= Neutral (like Mr) this is why I used Ms when Toris was being formal.


	12. Chapter 12

He caught up to her on the eighteenth floor of the hotel, about to pull out her keys for her room. Willing his aching legs to not give out on him now (not wanting to wait for an elevator, he had run up all eighteen floors), he gave a last burst of speed while he cried "AL! Wait a moment!"

She looked up, her eyes widening as wide as dinner plates before digging through her purse even faster and frantically trying to get the key into the lock.

"Al!" However, before she could open the door, in desperation, he did the only thing that occurred to him. He fly tackled his once little brother-now-sister, cushioning her fall as best as could, protecting her head with his arms. "Please! Wait a moment!"

She looked up at him dazed for a moment before frowning. "Was that really necessary England?"

Arthur winced at the use of his formal name and had the decency to look sheepish for a moment before his expression hardened a little. "Well... yes, yes it was. I know you Alfred F. Jones, I've known you for a very long time. And while the past few months have proven I don't know you as well as I thought I did, I can at least say I know you well enough to know that you would've run into that room and barricaded the door, refusing to see or talk to me."

When Al wasn't able to keep eye contact with him and looked away, he knew that he had been right.

"Look, Al. I really don't want to have a conversation out in the hallway like this..." _Especially when I'm straddling you and pining you to the floor_ he mentally added. "But I _need_ to talk to you. So, unless I get a promise on your honour as a nation, I will not be moved. So what do you say? Can we please talk in your room?"

Al blushed, seeming to realize the fairly compromising position they were in and replied "Fine England."

When he didn't let her up, she sighed and said "I promise on my honour as a nation that I'm not going to run away. Now _please_ get off me."

Reluctantly, England removed his arms from behind her head and slowly got up, picking up her keys from where they fell on the floor. Offering her a hand up  which she sadly brushed off  he unlocked the door and wordlessly gestured for her to enter first. She went and flopped down on the single bed, glaring at him while England pulled the chair from the desk and straddled it. They sat in tense silence before England broke it, admitting quietly.

"Everyone wears a mask."

"What does that have to do with anything?" America blurted, confused before looking annoyed that she said anything.

"Everyone wears a mask." England repeated, running a nervous hand through his hair. "It wasn't just you and Matt, all of us wear one. Some are a little more transparent then others, but they're still there. Mine has a few more layers then most."

He paused a moment before admitting, "If you interrupt me I don't think I'll be able to continue, honesty has never come easy to me so while I'm sure you will have things to say, please wait...You know me, I'm difficult with emotions. I don't know how to deal with them, how to express them. I didn't have very good childhood America nor a very peaceful time in my teenage years; look at any recorded history to see what it tells you. You had a fairly sheltered time of things in the New World, I share this past with all the other European personifications and we all had different ways of coping with the horrors that were happening to our nation and to ourselves personally. Mine happened to be avoiding everyone I could, suspecting everyone and everything in order to protect myself and if anyone did to close, to make sure they'd never do so again. However, as a result...I distanced myself completely from the others. I had allies, not confidants or friends and even they were tentative at best. I don't know how to really interact with others, not positively anyway, the only person I was ever really open with was you."

"And you betrayed me." He whispered after a moment.

When Al opened her mouth to defend herself, he gave her a small glare and pressed on. "It was painful for me to be around you after that. Whether you ever realized it, I had shown you my inner self, all of my vulnerabilities, thoughts and hopes, all of my old scars both psychical and not. I couldn't bare to be around you. Then when our countries became allies again and you began popping over and acting like nothing was wrong...I had no idea what to do, especially when a part of me still wanted nothing more then to just hold you in my arms again while mostly I was so terrified of what you may say or do, so scared of the kind of advantage you could hold over me."

"Some parts of me still fear that." He acknowledged, "Even now I can't help but be reminded of numerous incidents when I was led along by France or someone else when I was a naive little plonker with scabby knees. I have severe trust issues, that isn't totally your fault, just as it isn't totally mine. That said, can you at least understand why I acted as I did? It wasn't to hurt you but...to protect myself." He gave a fairly bitter laugh, "The only real way I still can, swords and the like being very difficult to carry around now."

There was quiet and Arthur couldn't bear to look up and instead inspected the top of the chair while trying to get his hands to stop shaking and the awful feeling in his stomach to go away. So caught up in this, he didn't hear the slight creak in the bed springs and jumped when a gentle hand under his chin forced his head and eyes up. Looking into her blue eyes, he could see hurt, confusion and hesitance lingering there along with something else.

"Arthur, is what you're trying to say is that you're sorry for being an ass earlier?" She enquired softly.

Gulping slightly, unable to look away, he spluttered "N-no! Well, I mean yes but not entirely that! I mean...That is to say...Well...I..."

He continued to fidget while her hand remained steady and, realizing that she wasn't going to let him look away until he spit it out, he managed to explain. "I close myself off from everyone and especially you" he ignored the flash of hurt that passed across her features "because I can't help but fear that you're just tolerating me, humouring me until I go away. I'm afraid of getting hurt again...you see poppet, somewhere in the last century, I've found myself...caring for you more then I properly should."

Al's hand dropped as she distanced herself, sitting once more on the bed, eyes wide with a fairly unreadable expression and he once more took the opportunity to look away, embarrassed. "As you had made it clear in the past that you were not interested in being with me (albeit in a different sort of way), I distanced myself. I tried to convince myself that any flirting on your part, any signs of affection were interpretations of my own wishes, that I was only setting myself up for more heartbreak."

Then with a mental slap followed by a small voice (sounding surprisingly like Francis) in his head telling him to grow a pair, he gave a small groan and once more ran his hand through his hair as he looked up into Al's eyes. "This is never how I dreamed I would confess, but I...want to spend the rest of my existence making you smile. I care for you very much and never want to see you sad...I'm, well, I-I'm very much...enamoured with you...This shouldn't be so hard to say!" Al now looked torn between being amused and hopeful and he mentally cursed at himself a moment, before he near shouted. "Damn it all! Al! I. Love. You. Too."

Within moments, he found himself with America in his arms, hugging him tightly. After a moment, he did his best to reciprocate, though his arms were now pined, and as he did so he heard what she was muttering into his shoulder.

"You moron." He stiffened before relaxing when she continued. "Why couldn't you have just _said_ that?...And, you were never just tolerated. Ever since I was little, all I wanted, all I _ever_ wanted was for you to stay. You were who I needed, the nation I chose... _choose_ to need." After the sweet declaration, she then muttered. " _My_ moron. Stop selling yourself short!"

Leaning back slightly to break the hug, he gave a sheepish grin, "Sorry?"

"Sorry doesn't cut it Arthur Kirkland!" He was back to being Arthur! That was a good sign at least. "You owe me a debt now!"

He raised an eyebrow, smirked and pulled her as close as the back of the chair between them would allow. "And how should I repay that? Shall I carry your things for you to and from meetings? Carry you? Buy you dinner for a month? Buy you every little thing your heart desires? Treat you as a princess?"

However, the snarky answer he was expecting was not the one that he received. Rather, there was no answer as Al seemed to have decided that words were superfluous and that nature's lovely trick for preventing any more from coming was the way to go. In the second after his last jesting question, she had quickly closed the gap between them and placed her own soft lips on his own, chastely kissing him before drawing back.

"We can start with that." She said with a goofy grin before she said shyly, "...You have no idea how long I've been wanting to do that for."

"Mmm, I rather like this method of repayment." Arthur whispered, as though speaking too loud would break the mood. Then, giving her a smirk, he gently pulled her back towards him, the chair rocking back when their lips met again. After a moment, he decided to take charge somewhat, opening his lips slightly to allow his tongue to gently lap at her bottom lip. This silent request did not go unnoticed by Al and with a sigh, she turned her head slightly and allowed her lips to part, their tongues slowly tangling. However, the sweet moment was not to last.

"Agh!"

So caught up were they, neither heard or noticed the tell-tale creaking sound as the chair wobbled on two legs before tumbling backwards, taking both Al and Arthur with it.

They lay there stunned on the ground for a moment before giving in to hysterical giggles, struggling to breathe as the minutes passed before eventually calming down.

As he regained the ability to breath normally, so did his ability to sense pain; and his nerves were not too happy with him. So he stood with a groan and stretched, rubbing his lower back and cricking his neck as he did so.

Al, her laughter also gone, stood up and kissed him gently on the nose. "You alright?"

"Been better." He said with a self-deprecating chuckle. "I don't think I've messed up a kiss like that in a very long time."

They stood like that for a little while, chest to chest, enjoying the desired closeness of the other after so long. However, soon Alfred began to get impatient, and leaned down slightly in order to start gently kissing the Brit once more.

Arthur, getting frustrated with the mere 2cm height difference between them*, gave a mischievous grin before he pushed the surprised American back onto the bed. Following quickly after, he then did his best to kiss her senseless before he leaned back and nodded satisfactorily "There, it's much easier to kiss you now."

America just laughed and grabbed him by the suspenders of his badger costume, yanking him forward again to connect their lips.

Arthur eagerly responded, placing an arm on either side of her head so as to better balance himself, and tried to show her without words, without extravagant gesture, how relieved and how happy he was his secret love (that was never supposed to see the light of day) was reciprocated. He kissed her tenderly and gently while using his tongue to show his happiness and passion, smiling all the while while her thin fingers, calloused from work, tangled in his hair. He really didn't smile often, his facial muscles already feeling a little sore but he found he didn't care.

Like his many well-known authors, Arthur had a way with words, able to twist them and draw from them all sorts of emotions but when it came to speaking, his gift always seemed to fail him, the words never sounding quite right. So while he wanted nothing more then to just tell her over and over how she appeared and meant to him, the words just wouldn't come. So he settled for showing her as best he could; his body communicating through restless touches, gentle caresses and loving kisses what words could not. 

He had been so confused the first decade or so he had come to terms with his crush, as he had always loved the shape of a woman, how they moved, how they acted and how they looked but he was still attracted to Alfred. A supposed man. The only man he was interested in, but a man nonetheless. Considering also – not that he would ever, _ever_ , admit it out loud – that he had wanted America since the beginning of the 1900's, when homosexuality was heavily frowned upon, he had been a bit of a wreck before he had made his peace with it. It didn't matter that he was in fact a she (though he had needed the few months to come to terms with things again), he loved her either way. 

What was important thought was that she was here, she loved him.

How fantastic those three words were.

She. Loved. Him.

He broke the kiss to go kiss the corner of her lips before kissing his way down her neck, nibbling at the nape before working his way back up to kiss her ear.

He was going to just leave it at that but when she let out a small sigh as he did so; a sly grin replaced his happy one and he did it once more before gently licking her ear. She jolted slightly, minutely, but he knew he had her attention. The next few moments he spent memorizing her reactions as he kissed, licked and lightly nibbled on her earlobe, though tugging it gently with his teeth seemed to get the best reaction. 

Gently blowing on her now-damp ear, eliciting shivers, he then softly breathed into ear, “You seem to like this love.” 

He was taken from his fun, however, when gentle but insistent hands guided him back to kiss her again.

Separating once more, he looked down at the pretty picture she made for him, her lips open as she panted slightly, red from kissing, her eyes darkened and her cheeks slightly red. The makeup from earlier was mostly gone with the exception of the eye shadow. There was still a dusting of red on the eyelid with small white dots surrounding and framing the eye. 

_His_ colours. 

He felt a shiver go through him, it was probably unintentional and, yes, it did match her costume's colours but...it was still _his_ colours. That of the English's flag and St. George's Cross. Sure, there was also a little gold left but that didn't stop his mind from providing his mind with the lovely imagery of America wearing nothing but his flag...

He really needed to focus on the present, Al was starting to look uncomfortable; he had not realized he was staring. So, in apology, he leaned forward and kissed both of those eyelids and placed his hand along her chin, “Beautiful.” he murmured almost worshipfully. 

“Like what you see then?” Al said, smirking up at him, some confidence returning, leaning into his hand.

“Very much so...I still can't quite believe this is real.” He replied, as he leaned down to kiss her again but she dodged him, sliding down a little before leaning up to kiss his neck. He wasn't sure how she knew that the area was sensitive for him but he just hoped that she wouldn't stop. She first kissed then licked and nibbled his neck, stopping to gently suck on his Adam’s apple causing him to softly groan.

Knowing that they couldn't go much further before they got to territory difficult to retreat from, he managed to hiss out: “Al, do you, ah!...” He groaned as she nibbled once more, he was sure he would have a hickey there the next day. Knowing that he would not be able to put a full sentence together he managed to get a _Stop!_ out, causing her to freeze.

“What's wrong?” She whispered, fear nearly stopping her voice.

“Nothing's wrong.” He huffed, trying to sound reassuring as he caught his breath. “Just my neck is very, er, sensitive and I wanted to be sure this is what you want... Because I'm not sure I could stop....well I could and would obviously but, do you understand what I'm trying to say?” He asked, his ears bright red, though not just from the previous stimulation.

Al sighed before giving him a gentle grin, “You had me nervous there for a minute Artie. Always have to be a gentleman...Yes, I want this. We've known each other for so long, I think we're beyond that first date stuff; we both want this, have wanted this. If something gets too much, I'll tell you and I expect you'll do the same, right?”

Arthur nodded and so she ran teasing hands up and down his sides and drawled “Good.”

Then she flipped them.

Dazed, Arthur looked up at her while she flashed him a victorious expression. “Gotcha”

They stayed like that for a while, kissing slowly, hands gently mapping out sides and arms, both parties almost reluctant to make the next step.

It is surprisingly him that breaks first, Al curiously patient. He couldn't quite handle it anymore so that this time when his hands wander back down her sides, they slowly slide under her shirt, caressing soft skin.

America let out a slightly surprised hiss at this before sighing as his slightly cool hands just resumed the task they had formally been doing: the rather important task of memorizing every inch of her in this moment, imprinting her into his memory. His hands are at her waist, warm and soft, her flesh yielding slightly beneath his hands, goosebumps following in the wake of his fingers.

“Artie~” She breathed, leaning into his touch before pushing herself up in order to work her shirt off. Arthur felt his breath stop for a moment as more and more skin was revealed.

She was beautiful. It didn't matter what any of the others said, she was perfect in his eyes. Her skin shone slightly from the sweat and was slightly flushed, a light dusting of freckles drawing paths across and her breasts bouncing slightly as she shifted and breathed. There was a healthy amount of substance on her bones, skin not drawn completely taut but with a endearing softness, helping to round out her curves while her muscles from working out defined them. A flash of white when she grinned at him and her blonde hair glowing slightly in the low light and her enthralling blue eyes, drawing him in...simply lovely.

Hesitantly, his hands traced farther north before, when meeting no resistance, his wandering hands lightly ran over her bra, an endearing lacy red one. The reaction was instantaneous as she quickly inhaled and leaned into his hands. Permission given, he ran his hands along the fabric, his callouses catching somewhat on the fabric and gently squeezing. An idea occurring to him, he used his touches to have her move so slightly forward and he quickly sat up, bringing his mouth to the fabric.

The surprised moan and fingers tangling once more in his hair was worth the slight burn in his stomach muscles. Slight fingers on his right hand continued to gently massage while he sucked on her nipple through the fabric eliciting more cries as his left alternated between rubbing and tweaking the other. However, when he grew tired of that, his hands went behind her to undo the clasps of her bra and slowly pulled off the fabric keeping him from her bare skin.

Better.

Leaning back, he let his hands take over once more where his mouth had been, her breasts not quite fitting in his hands as he gently squeezed before he went back to teasing her darkened nipples.

An accidental pinch, she threw her head back and groaned, her hands scrabbling for a grip on his torso. Delighted by her reaction, he did it again while she made eye contact (and didn't her eyes just send shivers through him?) and began pulling at his shirt, with a groan of “Not fair.”

So he did a crunch to quickly take off his own shirt, his hands promptly returning to their posts after. He felt a certain satisfaction when she began to ogle him as much as he had earlier, he wasn't as built or as gorgeous as some of the other nations so he felt a surge of love when she sighed in appreciation. Her hands began skimming his own sides, tracing the muscles there and his ribs causing him to squirm as he tried not to laugh.

“Al, love, not so lightly.” He implored, slightly breathless.

Her eyes light up with mischief and her touch grew even lighter, fingers creating swirling patterns on his sides “Aw, is Artie ticklish?”

He tweaked her nipple causing her to softly keen, “I might be Alfie.” He responding, delighting in the happiness that crossed her face at the nickname. “But don't forget, I raised you for a period and I know _exactly_ where your ticklish spots are...” 

He left the oh-so ominous threat hanging in the air, causing America to pout. “Aw, you're no fun.” Then an idea occurred to her and as quick as lightening, her hands darted forward to pinch both of his nipples.

“Mmm.” Arthur grinned, while it did still feel quite nice, it wasn't anything overwhelming. “I'm afraid mine are not quite as sensitive as yours.” To emphasize his point, he quickly leaned forward to down to lave her right nipple with his tongue before lightly grazing it with his teeth causing her to keen from the sensation it brought. He then pulled her down to once more kiss her soft lips, their bodies flush against one another again. As their tongues tangled, he started with surprise when Al's hands ran along his neck, causing him to break the kiss. 

“Ah!” he groaned. When he arched his neck, America took her chance to dart forward and begin to kiss, nibble and suck on the skin, leaving a string of red marks in her wake. She then darted up to his ears and proved that she wasn't the only sensitive there while another reached down to run her palm over the growing bulge.

With a growl, he put an arm around her waist and flipped them again, kissing her soundly as he did before he drew back. “Not that I don't appreciate that my dear, but I thought this was about me _repaying_ my debt to you.” The _let me pleasure you_ was left unsaid but he knew Al wasn't so bad at reading the atmosphere as she acted; he knew that she would understand the hidden meaning of those words. This was confirmed when her eyes widened and grinned, letting her head flop down on the pillows while her body shivered slightly. 

Then using one hand to pin her hands, his other undid his suspenders and keeping eye contact, looking for any discomfort, he bound her wrists together then to the bed. Thankfully her expression showed nothing but surprise and delight, with her wiggling a little when he finished, testing the limits of the knots.

No protests given, he kissed her once more before making his way down her warm body, leaving a shining trail on her skin from his tongue, stopping at the hem of her pants. While he had been doing this, his hands had been far from idle, roaming over the places where his lips and tongue had been moments before. Looking up at her, he gave a mischievous smirk before using one hand to steady her thigh and the other to went to the junction of her legs and rubbed there. 

“Art-hur!” She gasped, bucking into his hand.

“Can I take them off?” He asked, repeating the movement as she gasped and whined.

“Ye-s!” She managed to gasp, her hands twisting in her bounds as though to free herself in order to remove the barrier between his hand and her skin.

In one quick move, he divested her of her pants before bringing his hands to her waist and leaning forward to kiss her, their bodies pressed flush against one another. When they parted once more, he realized he couldn't recall a time where he had seen Al's so flustered; her normal blue eyes were darkened and her pupils dilated, her cheeks flushed and lips parted. In that moment, he wanted nothing more then to touch, to run his hands over every inch of bare skin until America comes apart for him.

So he does.

He passes his hands up her narrow hips and soft sides, along her smooth shoulders and down her muscled arms before shifting down to her strong calves and round thighs. He traced any old scars he finds first with his hands, then his lips all the while feeling old sorrow in the knowledge that he was responsible for a number of them and that he hadn't been able to prevent the others. Arthur could spend all day mapping out her body but when her strong legs wrap around him and she starts to rub herself against him...

“Arthurrrrrrrrrrr, stop being such a damn _tease._ ”

Well, who is he to refuse a lady?

Settling himself once more between her legs, his one hand slowly stroked her inner thigh while his other went to where she wanted him the most, rubbing the damp fabric causing her to gasp and whine. When she began to lose control and started to rut against his hand, he drew slightly away before moving the fabric to the side, he ran a finger over the very core of her.

“Al?” He asked, a very important question wordlessly voiced through her name.

“Yes. Yes. A thousands times yes.” She sobbed, bucking her hips slightly, desperation in her voice and in how her body trembled. “Please!”

At her plead, he thrust his finger inside... “Al, you're really tight...”

Her cheeks reddening, she looked away, “It might have been a while.”

Trying to hide his pleasure at that (though he would have to be sure to more careful now), he concentrated at the task at hand, twisting his finger, crooking it and moving it in and out before adding another. She feels tight, hot and wet around him, each movement causing her to groan and writhe. When he had three inside her, he reached over with his other hand and began to also circle her clit with his thumb. He can feel her orgasm approach as her movements get more frantic and her cries higher pitched, her body shining with sweat and trembling, her face contorting in pleasure.

He coaxed her hips up and is then able to push in deeper, finding a small sponge-like spot that makes her keen wordlessly once more and strain against her bonds, bucking. He strokes her a few more times and she's coming, heels digging into the mattress, eyes wide and lips open to cry out though no sound comes, soaking her panties.

He didn't wait for her to fully recover, quickly removing her underwear and drawing his fingers out to be replaced by his mouth, his tongue slipping inside that warm, slick heat. She gave a broken moan as he worked his tongue in and out, up and down, back and forth before giving a minute whimper as he began to suck on her clit, his fingers pushing back inside. She was already close, still recovering from the aftershocks of her previous orgasm and her body tingling with oversensitivity as her body once again began to shake. He continued to work her open and with a moan she came, a new rush of fluid gushing out of her.

His heart just about burst with love and pride as he watches her come down from her high, panting and chest heaving. When her eyes focus on him, he brings his hand up before slowly cleaning off each finger of her pleasure.

“Untie me.” 

Her voice brokered no arguments, so with no small disappointment, Arthur did so. In the next few seconds, America twisted them, rolling them over so that England was on his back and her clever fingers were on his fly, quickly ridding him of the clothing that separated them.

“I want you.” She whispered into the still air, though a moment later, it was Arthur's voice that broke the peace, a hoarse cry escaping him when her hand wrapped around him. Her hand stroked him, testing and curious while she covered his abdomen with butterfly kisses. Then suddenly, hot, wet lips were on him, stealing away his ability to breathe and think.

He did his best to remain still, he really did, but as a mental fog descended to cloud his mind, he found himself bucking into her mouth like some horny teen, his hands scrabbling on the sheets for something to ground him. However, firm hands on his hips stopped any further movement and he was embarrassed when he whined as her mouth and hands left him.

“Eager there tiger?” She smirked up at him.

“Quiet. It's been a while for me as well...” He hissed with no real malice, “Now kindly stop talking and put your mouth to a better use.”

“Aw.” She chuckled playfully, “someone's grumpy. And what will you do if I don't?”

Deciding his pride wasn't worth a flying anything at this point, he gave up the ghost and begged “Please!”

“I can give you better...” So, one hand wrapped around him once more while she fished out a condom from...somewhere, Arthur really wasn't paying that much attention at this point, before she straddled him and sank down on him with a groan. Arthur grit his teeth and his hands shot up to grip her hips, willing every muscle in his body to not so much as twitch until she told him that she was ready.

Rolling her hips experimentally, she then began to ride him, Arthur meeting her thrust for thrust. After a few minutes, the tempo began to speed up and England found himself frantically kissing her, kisses on her nose, cheeks, lips, anywhere he could reach while his left hand rubbed her clit; each passing second bringing him closer to the edge. Al came once more with a strangled sob, pressing their bodies together, hugging his shoulders and neck and nibbling on his ear.

After recovering somewhat, she pulled herself completely off him, rubbing the tip of his cock against her as England growled and whined, desperate for release of his own. Using the hand that was tangled in his hair, she lightly tugged his head to the side, exposing his neck and ear while she bent forward and whispered sensually into his ear “Come for me?”. Then she bit down on the area where neck met shoulder and slammed her hips down, causing him to penetrate deeply. 

It was too much. With a groan, his hips bucked once more and his muscles tightened as he thrust forward and electricity seeming to dance on his skin as release caused his world to go white. 

“Love you Arthur.” Her voice seemed to say from a great distance.

He blinked a few times before a lazy hand reaching over to grab her and tug her down and the other reaching for the blankets they had nearly kicked off to cover them with. “Love you too Al.” He answered, his voice rough and hazy. 

They drifted off to sleep like that, wrapped around each other, boneless and carefree, the sounds of the Carnival in the background.

* * *

* * *

Much later in the evening, the moon streamed through the open balcony doors and also illuminated Arthur as he leaned up against the railing of the balcony, cigarette dangling loosely from his fingers, listening to the festival wind down for the night.

He heard footsteps behind him and turned to smile gently at America as she came out to join him.

"You're awake." He grinned.

"The bed was too big, I started to get a little cold." She answered playfully, though there was a slight reprimanding tone to it.

"Ah. My apologies." England answered lazily, stubbing out the cigarette, smile not leaving his face as he leaned over to nuzzle her nose. "I couldn't bear the thought of sleep, lest I wake and this all be a dream."

America blushed and gently punched him in the shoulder "You have a honeyed tongue Sir, but I know your tricks old man!"

"I shall have to try harder then." With another kiss, he pulled her back into the room, closing the french doors behind them before wrapping both hands around her waist and pulling her closer again."

"...I think this is the most I've ever seen you smile." Al chided lightly, "You should do it more often."

Arthur buried his face in the nape of her neck, kissing her lightly there as he did so before he declared, "I think not! Then I might loose my...what was it again...'Grumpy Old Man' award to Austria or Romano! That would simply not do! Besides I spent centuries sailing under the red flag and building up my reputation of being a dangerous man to cross, can't have them thinking I've gone soft now can I?"

The minute shiver that went through his companion when his accent slipped slightly into more of a drawl didn't escape him and brought his head up in order to whisper in her ear. "Though...I think I could perhaps make an exception if this lovely wench in my arms joined up on the account. Tell me lass, do you wish to be from the sea and sail under my command?" When she shivered again in delight and leaned back into him, Arthur thought it might be a good idea to see if he could find any of his old pirate outfits and if any had even survived the centuries.

Not now though.

* * *

The next morning, England and America barely made it to the meeting on time.

However, they were not the only ones, Austria, Hungary and Prussia also were nearly late, coming in holding hands and small smiles on their faces. As the meeting descended into it's typical chaos, Canada was surprised when Germany  the typical voice of reason among their kind  didn't intervene.

Looking over to where he sat, she could see that he was distracted. He looked frustrated and uncertain, constantly glancing over to the left...to where his older brother sat dozing on Austria's shoulder while Hungary deflected any attacks that came their way. Oh. She trained her own gaze over to the couple...could that term even be used in this case?...Oh well. When Austria and Hungary had first approached her and America about starting a relationship with Prussia...well, it hadn't been pretty.

Prussia was important to them both. At first, he hadn't meant much, to Matt he was her caretaker's dear friend and to Al he had been little more then a trainer in the art of war and both admired him as an opponent. However, after the World Wars which he had taken the brunt of punishment for, they felt they owed him a debt. So whenever he would show up at one of their doors, they would take him in, no questions asked. It was through listening to him as he gradually opened up, holding him at night through the night terrors, helping he heal old wounds that no one seemed to care enough to look into that they became attached to the man. In fact, if asked, both would say that he was one of their closest friends.

And if nothing else, both had proved that when it came to those they cared about, no holds were bared and there was no line to cross.

By the time they finished with their threats, Canada was sure both remembered why she was the Axis's bogeyman and America the nation they didn't want to enter war against.

Then, last night, she had been having a conversation with Italy, Japan and Germany when first her sister and former caretaker ran out (she was delighted that things had turned out well for the pair) then when Prussia walked off with Austria and Hungary.

It was very subtle the shift, but it was there. She definitely noticed (Japan likely did and Italy, well, who really ever knew with him) when Germany's expression tightened, his eyes narrowing slightly and his knuckles went white, tightening on his flute of campaign. He was mad and he was also scared, nervous even. At that point all three had done their best to distract, inviting him to dance, dragging him outside to the garden, getting him a drink...

It seemed however, that Germany had hoped that Prussia would turn them down and was clearly disapproved of what was going on. She was a little disappointed by that but not unsurprised.

Prussia had been pining after the pair for centuries and now his hopes were answered. As his friend, she was happy for him, just as she hoped Germany was. However, there was also the fear that he would be hurt again, something that she hoped her and Al's threats (along with those of Antonio, Francis, Arthur, Vash and Lily) would prevent. After all, it sometimes paid to be invisible and the sheer creativity of those threats were something to be feared and she was sure that Germany's own warning was ten times worse.

The fact that he was unable to concentrate on a meeting and hadn't noticed (or didn't care) that chairs were now flying as the meeting room deteriorated once more into chaos, was worrisome. Ducking under the table, she crawled down to where he sat and popped up in the chair beside him.

"Ludwig?"

He jolted, clearly having not noticed her come over before trying to be nonchalant about it. "... Ja? What is it?"

"Well," she began jerking her thumb at the chaos, "nothing else is going to get done today so I was wondering if you'd like to skip out with me and go on a hike. You look like you need to unwind."

"Wha- But! The-The meeting!" Ludwig stuttered out flustered. He clearly also saw that getting work done now was a hopeless cause but he hated to break hi schedule or play truant.

However, when the sound of breaking glass was heard along with fire alarm beginning to ring, he quickly made up his mind and dryly commented "Lead on."

An hour later, they were walking along a slight mountain path in the crisp air of early spring. They were lucky that Carnevale fell later in the year this time, else there would've been snow and neither were really dressed for that. As it was, Germany still had to help Canada at times due to the fact she was now wearing properly tailored clothes and woman's formal attire wasn't the best choice for freedom of movement. Reaching a stopping point, they took one of the benches and looked down on the view below, enjoying the silence. Matt knowing that Ludwig would talk when he was ready and Ludwig knowing that Matt wouldn't press him.

After a little while, Germany cleared his throat, having noticed that some dark clouds were moving in fast and stood. "Matt, I believe it would be best if we made our way back now, those clouds do not look friendly."

Pulled from her own thoughts and seeing the clouds, she quickly agreed. However, they only made it halfway down when the skies opened up and rain poured down so they took up shelter in a nearby cave.

They sat in silence before he decided to open up on the topic that was bothering him. "Canada, what would you do if your sister started to date someone who has proven unhealthy for them in the past?"

Matt remained quiet for a moment, mulling the question over, not wanting to give him a flippant answer. "Well, in all fairness, she has. Both England and her do not have the happiest of histories together but do any of us really? All nations have hurt each other in the past in some way or another, we haven't begun working together as equals until the past few decades. Besides, Al is a grown woman, she can do what she likes... But to answer your question, I would warn her, talk to her, try to remind her of past incidents. If that didn't work, then I would talk to her suitor and make it _absolutely clear_ what would happen to their vital regions should Al be hurt again. Beyond that though, there isn't anything I could do."

Silence descended once more as Germany thought about what she said before despairing "But what if you've already done that?"

Matt turned to look at him, "Ludwig, this is going to sound very harsh but Gilbert doesn't need your protection, he can defend himself. What he needs is your support so that if a year from now or a century, things go bad, he knows he can turn to you. Austria and Hungary both know what kind of consequences they'll face if they allow politics to once more destroy the connection they have; Prussia has more friends then I think you realize."

When she turned to look at him, he saw in her expression the same one she had during Hundred Days and on Juno Beach, and knew that she too was concerned for his brother.

"I suppose..." He replied, looking out at the landscape below once more.

A thought occurred to him then and while it may unnerve him a bit, he had learned from the past and would not run away from his emotions. Doing that had resulted in the end of his and Italy's relationship so, before he could lose his nerve, he gulped and steeled himself before awkwardly asking, "...Matt, you are also a grown woman, do you do as you like?...Because if you'd like, I think I'd like to take you out to dinner."

Matt took a moment to register her words before turning to him, mouth agape. "M-me?" she whispered.

"Yes." He answered, cheeks red but refusing to drop eye contact, though internally he was preparing for rejection.

"Are you sure?" Canada asked, her voice trembling.

Germany knew that she had insecurity issues, he had seen it in meetings and had seen it repeatedly over the past few months. He hadn't thought of this possibility when he had entertained the thought of confessing to her...but her answer was not a "No."

Well, perhaps if he tried to spell it out for her then.

So he lightly growled, "I don't know what you take me for, but I'm not looking for someone to, to... sleep with! Some faceless no-one who will be gone long before the sun rises! I'm looking for someone that I want to wake up to in the morning!" He sighed, running his hand through his hair, causing some of it to tumble loose from the rigid gel before continuing in a defeated tone. "I'm...lonely, yes; that is true. But I am in no rush, I'm not interested in pursuing someone just because they can recognize me. I want to find someone who likes me for me and will stick around no matter what, not for my abilities in bed. These past few months I've gotten to know you as a person better and I already greatly respect your abilities as a nation, you make me smile, and we can talk without me feeling awkward and when you laugh, my heart clenches. When we went out for dinner with your sister and Italy, something just...clicked for me. I'm not entirely sure, in fact, I'm terrified I'm making another mistake but if you're interested, I'd like to see where a relationship goes between us."

Matthew didn't say anything for a moment before she then got up, brushing off her slacks "It's probably best we be getting back, the rain appears to be letting up."

Germany slumped, taking her words for rejection when a finger under his chin drew his head up into purple-blue eyes "Then I'd be delighted if you'd join me for dinner." She then grabbed his hands and drew him up, tugging his slightly-shocked body out into the open.

Once her words caught up with him, he grabbed her tightly in a hug and spinning her around.

Laughing breathlessly, Matt mused _Whoever would've guessed that this was the result of missing a G8 meeting?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * Because by hetalia . wikinet wiki / Main_Page America is 177cm/5'9"6ft and England is 175/5'9ft
> 
> I hope this writing experiment turned out alright and that those who had their pairings drawn are satisfied. I know the PruAusHun was angsty but their historical and canon interactions would make any relationship interestingly complicated. I did my best with the kinda crack! GerCan though the pairing is now one I ship due to the research for this and I've also been partly converted to USUK.
> 
> Thank you all for reading.


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